The Prince's Quest For Immortality
by The Winged Lioness
Summary: Post-Cell Games & Pre-Battle Of Hogwarts. Vegeta finds out about the Wizarding world and decides to join the ranks of the Death Eaters to gain more power. What happens when the prince learns that their master is immortal? Will he himself try to gain eternal life?
1. Different Worlds, The Same Ideas

**Disclaimer: Akira Toriyama, I cannot thank you enough for this anime and its wonderful characters, especially Vegeta, Bulma, Raditz, Trunks and Piccolo, which are my favorites. I know you wouldn't mind me borrowing them to pay a tribute by writing this story.**

o o o

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**This is my second fan fiction story It would have made more sense to start easy and gradually write longer and more complex fan fics, but… one does not simply follow the logical order in creative writing, haha. A big idea popped into my head, and I decided to implement it.**

**Normally, I'm against crossovers. The worst thing about them, in my opinion, is that it's so easy to fall into clichés. A character is sucked into another universe and has to just walk around, wondering at every single thing, until he meets another character(s) from foreign universe. There it goes... "_Oh, so you're a Saiyan? How is that possible?_" A few moments later"_Come with us, we'll help you around._" I tried to avoid this in my story.**

**This crossover is more Dragon Ball Z-sided. Vegeta is the main character (Bulma as well), while Harry Potter's universe is used as a background and plot engine.**

**From Harry Potter's side, this story contains a few magical objects and creatures I find most fascinating Pensieve, The Mirror of Erised, Dementors, Hippogriphs and the special etiquette how to handle them. They all appears in the story. Actually, this was one f the main reasons I decided to write this fan fic these objects were great tools to better express some traits of Vegeta's personality. Much like a litmus paper.**

**This story will contain 17-18 chapters. I have the whole plot planned (I don't usually make it up as I go). This is a guarantee that the story will be finished. I'll post it chapter by chapter. Right now, it's so tempting to just finish the current chapter and upload it as soon as possible, but I must fight this urge I know that there's nothing more annoying than bashed-up grammar and plenty of spelling mistakes. Besides, every time I look through my story, I find a sentence or two that I need to alter.**

**Please be patient and, of course, reviews are very welcome!**

o o o

**CHAPTER 1 Different Worlds, The Same Ideas**

Vegeta sighed with content, as he felt trickles of hot water cascading on him, soothing his sore back. Warm vapor enveloped his body. Vegeta winced at the tickling sensation of his fair being pressed flat on his neck. Water alone had power on his Saiyan mane.

After a few minutes, the maelstrom of his mind finally subsided, and the prince felt at calm. Even though it was temporary, induced by sensual pleasure, it was still a calm, and Vegeta embraced it/ This was the only moment of the day, when he could put all his anxieties to rest, letting the water rise his mind as well as body.

More so, the showering was a prelude to his little sultry fantasies, waiting to be quenched. Vegeta's lips curved into a smirk. The woman had warned him not to be late to bed tonight, or else she would tear her brand new lingerie to pieces. The Saiyan was not willing to take the risk. Bulma's temper was every bit as fiery and unpredictable as his own.

After a few prolonged moments, Vegeta stepped out on an ivory bath rug. He shook off remaining water on his chest in animalistic manner and wrapped a towel around his sinewy waist.

As he grabbed the door knob, all of a sudden a radio on the wall went on, and evening's tranquility was shattered by a silly radio station-representing tune.

Vegeta growled, nearly snapping the knob out of its hold. The water-proof radio in the bathroom was the woman's idea, for she enjoyed listening to "ambient music(whatever it means) while showering. The Saiyan had no objections, except that the blasted thing was programmed to turn itself on at regular intervals.

He headed towards the opposite wall to turn the noisy device off, only to be brought to a halt because of what he heard.

"_A tourist group from the West city were murdered in the city of London of North Area. The tragedy occurred at yesterday's noon, as estimated, between three and five o'clock in the Eastern part of the city. The bodies of victims were brutally mutilated, and the area was demolished. All signs show that powerful explosives were used."_

"_Police and ambulance arrived after ten minutes. Luckily, one victim was still alive and conscious enough to answer a few questions." _

The broadcaster's voice was replaced by a woman's, low and shaky.

"_It was as if the attackers appeared right out of thin air. No one saw them approaching. I was waiting at the station together with other passengers, and suddenly hell broke out. There wereexplosions, strange bright flashes and screams. I was trapped beneath the rubble, and it saved my life. The whole scene lasted only a few minutes, and then they were gone."_

Vegeta didn't realize that he was frozen in place, with his finger an inch away from the shut-down button. Wrinkles at the corners of his lips deepened. This cannot be happening…

Not even three weeks after the Cell Games had passed, and a new threat was already apparent. The prince new well that Earth was not ready to face it. Kakarot… Vegeta closed his eyes as never-resting daemons of humiliation and disgrace washed over him at the name of his arc-rival. Kakarot was dead, dead by his own choice. Gohan was still a child. A child with tremendous potential, however, not so easy to evoke. He couldn't be trusted in this. Mirai Trunks had left right after being healed at Dende's Lookout, back to the future where he belonged. There was no way to let him know that the Earth will soon need his help again. Vegeta narrowed his eyes. He'll have to deal with this alone, then.

The prince grinned with glee. Such an opportunity! Finally he will have a battle of his own, with no one to come and steal his moment. Even if he was to lose, he will die with dignity. There will be no one to witness the prince's fall, or even worse, to save him. No more humiliation.

Vegeta's trail of thoughts was broken, when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't need to sense the _ki _to know who the intruder was.

"Vegeta! For Kami's sake, get out of the bathroom at once! How dare you keep me waiting for this long?"

Vegeta glared at the door.

"I will be here for as long as I damn well please! Get away from the door."

"Tell me one reason why I should wait for you like a servant, dressed in my _new, expensive lingerie _when only walls can see it! I take it that tonight you have no intent to mate with me, as you call it. Well, I guess I'll just slip into my old tennis shirt. I hope you'll enjoy your good night's sleep _on the couch_."

Vegeta heard the woman slam the door to their shared bedroom. He sighed. So much for his fantasies. He turned off the light and walked downstairs. Any other night, the prince would be furious to no ends for such treatment, however, now he barely paid it a mind. The Saiyan didn't bother taking a pillow and sheets. He settled himself on the couch and stared into the darkness. No shadows could hide from him.

o - o - o

"Murders in the North Area? And of course, the first image of the culprits you conjured up was that of extraterrestrial monsters." Bulma's voice was not as taunting as usual. She looked concerned. "Give it a rest, Vegeta. It's been only three weeks…"

"Do you really think it matters how long it's been?" Vegeta snapped, slamming his fist to the kitchen table. "Perhaps you think that there is a schedule for every attack on this pathetic mud ball? Timing is irrelevant, woman. I must go and see for myself."

"Don't even think about it!" Bulma put her hands on her hips. The pitch of her voice increased. "Of all of us, you are the least fit for this task. If there is truth a new threat to be dealt with, we must send someone who has the Earth's best interests in mind, and not _someone _who sees it merely as a chance to mend his broken pride! You are not going anywhere."

Vegeta groaned inwardly. He knew that the woman was going to be difficult. How to make her realize that he was the only one sufficient enough to destroy the attackers?

"Besides," Bulma had that annoying smug look of a genius. "Is there any proof that this wasn't the work of humans?

"The only survival claimed that the assailants appeared "right out of thin air" Vegeta emphasized the quotation. "She mentioned as well, that they used some kind of strange flashes and lightnings. The whole area looked like after an explosion. What about _that?"_

Bulma bit her lip. Vegeta could all but hear the gear wheels of her superior brain trying to come up with some neat, logical explanation.

"Well, it's true that the technology used in North Area is not as advanced as in ours. That technique of sudden appearing sounds bizarre, though. Reminds me of Go-"

"_Don't mention him!"_

His mate's azure eyes glistened with compassion. Vegeta turned away, his insides wrenching with anger and despair. Instead of trying to offer her comfort, which, she knew, would be senseless, Bulma ignored this _faux pas _and went on, all business-like.

"… lots of examples of explosive weapons. They'd been used for _ages._" she smiled smugly. "Want me to list a few? There are grenades, dyna-"

"No, thanks. I'll refrain from the pleasure to quench my thirst of knowledge." Vegeta sneered, though his voice lacked the usual poignancy. The Saiyan stared down at his now-cooled pancakes. His appetite was suddenly gone.

He rose from the table.

"I'm going to train until late evening. Do not disturb me with any trivial matters."

He left the kitchen, feeling Bulma's exasperated gaze on his back all the way until he closed the door.

o - o - o

As soon as he was out of the woman's sight and mind, Vegeta flied over to the Capsule Corporation's grand library, located in the southern wing of the residence. He warily open the door to the place he'd never set a foot on before.

The library was truly a feast for the eyes. Vegeta was sure that it contained some of the world's oldest, rarest and most precious volumes. However, he wasted no time for a second look. The prince walked over to the table with a built-in world map. He pinched the touch screen to zoom in the view of the North Area.

There it is, the city of London. Apparently it was the area's main metropolis. Vegeta was not aware of it's existence before. The city and its surroundings were too densely occupied to be fit for a battlefield. The enemies he and the others had to fight never chose it as their playground either. Could it be a coinsidense?…

Vegeta tapped the button on the sidebar, and a virtual radar popped out on the screen. A robot's voice announced that the area will be scanned for any unknown forces and traces of them. Vegeta bared his teeth, drumming his fingers to the steel constructions, as he waited impatiently for the results.

"_Unknown force found in the district nr. 22. The traces will be gone in five hours."_

The Saiyan gripped the sides of the table. He must hurry, otherwise this mystery will slip through his fingers. The enemy gains power as longs as he stays under cover.

Vegeta glanced at the information bar for the coordinates and took off through a man-sized window. He didn't bother to close it. It was a warm, lovely day of April.

o - o - o

The sight was apocalyptic. Vegeta walked through the piles of rubble. Wherever his foot landed, a smoky cloud of ashes would fill the air. He tried his best not to inhale them.

Vegeta was not able to detect any unfamiliar _ki. _This is what scared him most. It was more than obvious that such demolition could not be humans' doing. Yet, his senses suggested the opposite. With no proof, no traces of a foreign power, the Saiyan had to admit that he'd been wrong. Admit it and return home… And face the fury of his mate.

At this moment, Vegeta all but _wished _that the enemy was real.

He continued to wander aimlessly through narrow streets and alleys, until he no longer could feel the sun heating his scalp. The prince lifted every fallen beam, every middle-sized stone to see if there was a trace beneath them. He no longer knew where he was going; unlike those pitiful Earthlings, the Saiyans were unable to go astray.

Vegeta growled fiercely. Had the radar misled him, then? Was all this search a waste of time? He grabbed the first thing that came to his hand and was about to thrust it to the wall, when, for the first time, he _sensed _something.

Vegeta's nostrils flared. The trace was very faint, it will surely be gone in less than half an hour. That was not the biggest issue, though. The power was absolutely foreign.

During his days under Frieza's rule, Vegeta's main mission was to search for planets suitable for selling, and purge them. Massive genocides were the staff of his life. This meant familiarizing himself with hundreds of different races, even those in the very corners of universe. Today was the first time after he landed on Earth when the Prince discovered new species. This was nothing to congratulate himself on, though. Vegeta cursed, clenching his gloved fist. He knew what he had to do.

o - o - o

The Saiyan pushed his _ki _before him to halt his flight. He was now hovering in the air, in altitude enough to perceive the view under his feet with clarity. Shielding his eyes from dying sun, he stared at the stately manor. The prince was surprised that the traces of this alien power would lead to such a place.

The manor was no fortress. It was obviously not built for defensive purpose, nor as the base for military forces, but for the sake of grand beauty, meant solely to humour the Earthling's pathetic tastes. The sight of stout, white peacocks, scattered around emerald fields, made Vegeta sneer with disgust. He drew closer to the ground, low enough to see his reflection on black waters, surrounding the mansion.

The Saiyan circled around the building, taking in all it had to offer for the eyes. Nothing could fascinate him, though neither graceful curves of the ancient arcs, nor the ornament of marble fountains, layered in a descending alley. All he was looking for was a perfect spot to land. Vegeta picked a minute balcony at the level of ground floor. Even if anybody were to look out of the window, his presence would not be caught. Vegeta dove downward, aiming for his chosen cover.

His landing broke off with a loud thud, as his body crashed into an invisible barrier. Vegeta hissed with rage, digging his nails into glassy surface. He was absolutely astonished. What kind of violation against the natural law was this?

Vegeta drew back, throwing a _ki _blast to destroy the impediment, only to duck as it bounced off and came back. Vein shot out on the corner of his brow, and the Saiyan yelled in fury, attacking the barrier with a hail of blasts, gradually increasing the force. It was soon clear that the barrier is not penetrable. Even the prince's favorite attack was of no use.

Vegeta's lowered his arms. Helplessness washed over him. Countless times the Saiyan had found himself in such position in combat, knowing that he was incapable of even mildly injuring his enemy, let alone destroying him. Yet, constant humiliation had toughened him up. When his strength was not enough, he would invoke his cunning mind.

Vegeta extended his _ki _towards the barrier, exploring its sleek surface. He could not identify the substance it was made of. Something between glass and rubber. His investigation soon paid off as he felt the barrier going slightly downwards. downwards. The obstacle seemed to shaped as a dome. Vegeta glided down and landed silently.

Crossing his arms, he stood in the shadow, facing the new ultimate barricade of a hedgerow. It hovered high above his head, dark and menacing. Small, waxy leaves intertwined to form strange patterns. Overall, the hedgerow did not resemble any plant Vegeta had previously seen on this planet. His eyes bore into an exposed branch, slightly fascinated by its faint metallic glint. The more he stared, the less natural it looked…

"Put your arms behind your back."

Vegeta felt a sharp sting to his neck. He froze in place, terrified momentarily. How could he had let his guard down like this?

Pressure increased. He could feel a breath on his neck, too rapid to be male's.

"Did you not hear me? Do as you are told, or I'll have your head."

Vegeta snickered, as he deliberately obeyed the command. His back relaxed.

"I don't need my hands to defend myself." The prince spun around to face whoever dared to waylay him, lifting his knee slightly. He was only half-turned when he heard a flick in the air, and his whole body petrified.

The spell had taken control of every single muscle of his body. Vegeta felt uncomfortable sting in his eyes, still bulging in astonishment. A small hand landed on his shoulder to turn him around fully. The Saiyan found himself in front of a pale, fair-haired woman.

She tightened a hold on his shoulder, making him lean on his tiptoes. Despite her fragile appearance, the woman supported Vegeta's weight with ease.

She stared him in the eyes cold, piercing look, much like his own.

"I should kill you like a dog. But something…." Her dry finger brushed his cheek. Their faces were inches apart; their breathing entwined. "Something about your… presence tells me that you are no common tramp. You will come with me."

One more flick, and firm ground under Vegeta's feet disappeared. His body, now hanging in the air and still immobile against his will, was pushed forward. The woman walked behind him.

Soon they reached the gates. Vegeta was expecting her to draw out a key, but all she did was pull up her sleeve and touch her skinny wrist to the iron. The Saiyan was left to gape (figuratively) as the gates opened themselves.

The path to the main doors was almost too short. Vegeta felt his pulse quicken at the rush of panic. Never had he felt so out of control. More than helpless, a fish out of water, a bird in the trap.

o - o - o

The manor was majestic. Vegeta had to admit it. Tall windows, framed by dark green curtains, let the last crimson glow of the day fill enormous room, reflecting upon glassy wood of the furniture. Touching an ancient carpet. Caressing a lock of hairs, as fair as the woman's.

"Well, what do we have here." a new voice inquired. Thin and languorous. A voice of the privileged.

Vegeta hated his powerlessness.

The hand on his shoulder was still there. Now it pushed him towards the voice. "A bird in the trap."

The woman's husband (Vegeta decided to label him as such) shifted in a throne-like chair. His fingered drummed at the elbow-rest.

"What is he doing inside, standing on my precious Persian carpet? Our home is no place for bums like him."

"Oh, he is no bum, Lucius." the woman crooned. She stepped aside, her hand finally dropping. "Look closer. I can almost _smell _it."

Her husband leaned forward, obviously intrigued. He stared at Vegeta's face, though what he was looking for, the prince had no idea. Then he burst into laughing.

"I see. This bird has got shiny feathers."

The woman's high-pitched voice accompanied him.

The Saiyan's temper was running short. A vein shot down on his forehead. However, before he could do anything, the laughter ceased.

"Special he may be, but he's still a Muggle." the man said. His lips twisted in disgust. "Let's get rid of him." He did not raise from the chair, Vegeta noticed. He was going to kill him with another flick of that stick, which had crippled the prince so easily.

Vegeta's temper was running low, dangerously low. A vein shot out on his forehead. He blinked, letting a drop of perspiration run down his eyelid, and suddenly it hit his that maybe he _wasn't _completely powerless. There was only one way to see. An idea flashed inside his head.

The Saiyan summoned his _ki, _drawing it from every nerve of his body, collecting every precious drop of energy, until the edges of his body began to glow. He must act quickly. When he was sure that he'd gathered enough raw power, Vegeta yelled at the top of his lungs.

This was nothing what they expected. Both man and woman started, their jaws ajar, and Vegeta grinned inwardly. There was no sweeter feeling than granting his enemies with an impressive performance. The carpet beneath his feet singed, as his body lit up with golden aura. Vegeta's eyes, now tinted teal, bore into a frightened couple.

The woman raised her stick, and he knew this was not enough. The spell she'd put him under was still valid, keeping his whole body petrified. Vegeta unleashed his power with one mental thrust, and all the furniture, cramped in the room, tumbled down. Before all luxurious items in them could break, the prince wrapped his _ki _around them and sent them floating in thr air, just below the ceiling.

His escapade was greeted with silence.

Suddenly, Vegeta felt the restrains falling off his body. He was finally released, now able to stretch his neck and straighten himself, with his arms crossed and feet slightly apart the stance he had adopted ages ago.

"Who are you?" Lucius whispered.

"That's none of your concern." the prince retorted bluntly. "Might I ask instead, who are _you?"_

"It would please me highly to do so, however we are bound by the law to hide our identities."

Vegeta snorted.

"Well, you obviously aren't of human species. That's all I need to know."

The couple seemed taken aback by his statement.

"What are you talking about, you fool?" the woman hissed. "Watch your tongue. Don't even dare to compare us with other pitiful races. We _are _humans, the only species capable of magic, therefore superior to any other creatures that invade this planet. We have ruled the world since it's dawn!"

Vegeta's eyes widened. They were lying to him; humans weren't capable of such things. There was no _magic, _only strength!

He took a deep breath, analyzing the air around them. There was no doubt that they were humans; his elegant nose wrinkled at filthy, gut-wrenching stink. Their _ki _was no better either.

"Don't bullshit me. I can sense it and smell it. If you wish to know what _inhuman _looks like, here I am." he smirked. "I'm not of Earth origin. And I certainly have nothing to do with those "pitiful other races", as you call them."

Vegeta expected shouts, curses, more spells to completely incapacitate him. Much to his surprise, he received nothing. The couple, now both of them standing, stared at him with blank faces. Then they turned on their heels and left the room. Hard closing of the doors made dozens of candle flames flutter.

o - o - o

"_Nonsense. Just another impostor, most probably mentally unstable. I've heard that some Muggles in a state of lunacy are capable of something close to our magic. That would explain everything."_

"_You are deceiving yourself, Lucius! Have you ever seen a Muggle, any human in general with powers like this? He had no wand, for Merlin's sake, this was clearly his first encounter with magical world! This is a mystery."_

Vegeta thanked Kami for his sensual hearing. Thick, old wood was no impediment. His ears caught every word.

_Lucius was silent for a moment. He seemed to think twice about what his wife had said._

"_Narcissa, even if he is of another race…"_

"_Or even extraterrestrial." the woman interrupted._

"… _he must be destroyed."_

Vegeta bared his teeth.

"_We cannot allow this to happen. Look at goblins, centaurs they all crave for our powers. If we let them, they would take over the world and reduce us to their slaves, as we had done to them."_

"_Therein is my point." Narcissa said dryly. "We must keep him."_

"_What?"_

"_Why let such an utility go to waste? How easily we, witches and wizards, forget benefits the magical creatures provide. How different your life would be if you had no house elves to polish your boots? No goblins to look after your gold? No Dementors to destroy public enemies? Hate and scorn them all you want, Lucius, but these are not the times to be fastidious. We've lost this luxury a long time ago."_

_There came no reply._

_o - o - o_

"We've reconsidered." the man called Lucius said.

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow.

"Have you now?" he hadn't moved an inch since they left the room. His arms were still crossed. The danger seemed to be over.

"I invite you to join our Lord's army. You see, our worlds may be different, but not ideas. A guy like you should only side with the strong. Our master is almighty. He repays those who serve him well. Accept our proposal, and you'll see how sweet life is for the powerful ones."

Vegeta's arms unfolded rapidly, hands clenching into fists. Golden currents of _ki _ran down his body, still in Super Saiyan's form. This time, though, the humans didn't flinch.

"You filthy vermin! How _dare _to even suggest an idea of me serving for someone other than myself? _I am the prince of Saiyans! PRINCE VEGETA!" _He yelled, no longer holding back his fury. Mighty, royal frenzy those weaklings so foolishly unleashed. They'll have brought it upon themselves.

The prince's body glowed yet brighter, his power intensifying with every beat of his heart. Lucius stepped closer, raising his stick, but stopped, unable to enter the field of immense energy surrounding Vegeta. He cursed.

"Oh, enough."

Narcissa raised her stick and uttered a combination of words, in a language unknown to the prince. A white ribbon rolled out from the tip, slowly descending.

Vegeta was familiar enough with Earthlings' etiquette to know that the woman was suggesting a nonagression pact. He pulled the level of his _ki _down, retracting the magnetic field, and stepped back. Suspicion grew inside him, as he saw Narcissa exchange glances with her sly husband."

"The _Prince, _you say?

o - o - o

Two, perhaps three hours had passed. Vegeta was now sitting on one of those throne-like chairs. There was a certain luxurious antiquity about them that he liked. All the furniture in Capsule Corporation was too colorful and minimalistic.

"But why would you say it is my mission?"

"Because you are a pureblood, just like us." Narcissa said. A few hours ago, when Vegeta revealed his origin, her voice had changed from acidic to sweet velvet. The Saiyan didn't mind. "More so, a royal."

"Trust me, we know how you feel. We know, what it means to have your pedigree trampled on, your privileges ignored. Fate itself has thrown you this opportunity." she continued. "When our world is restored to what it once was, you will be worshipped. Common people will bow to you, the other nobles will regard you with respect. More so, you will gain power. Power, befitting a prince."

The woman circled around him like a snake, in almost idolatrous manner. Her hand was once again on Vegeta's shoulder, but this time the touch was cautious, reverent. "And what a prince you are…" She whispered close to Vegeta's ear, making him tremble.

He was loosing his ground only to win something more. Something he desired for years. Narcissa's voice awakened an old dream that had died the moment two other Saiyan's, Vegeta's subordinates, entered his cell to inform him that Planet Vegetasei had been destroyed, along with his only hope to reign as a prince.

Vegeta closed his eyes, sighing deeply. His chest tightened with fierce longing.

"Can't you feel it, Vegeta? Blue blood runs in your veins. You could have the whole world beneath you feet, but _only _if we succeed with our mission. Our world must be clean again, as it was many generations ago. We must cut all the rots out of the tree of genealogy. Only then our powers will ascend, and the mankind will achieve a higher level of existence."

The prince's yees lit up with glee. He felt dizzy, almost as if the gravitation had been reduced to naught.

"I am ready."

"Excellent." Lucius spoke for the first time. He glanced out through the window. It was half past two, and they were both exhausted. However, what they'd been able to achieve was worth every ounce of their stolen nighttime.

Lucius stood up and raise his stick. _A wand, _Vegeta had learned earlier. He pointed its tip at en enormous shelf (that was now standing, as well as everything on it) and uttered a spell, aiming randomly at one of the items. A wine glass, made of pure silver, was suddenly surrounded by faint blue glow. Lucius lifted it carefully and handed to Vegeta.

"This is a Portkey, one of the magical objects used for traveling. It will take you to our military base."

Vegeta rose from his seat.

"Thank you. Your story was quite engaging. I hadn't expected that." He didn't grab the cup right away, though. His lips twisted to a smirk. "But first…"

He plunged forward, a motion faster than human's eye could follow, and snapped both their wands out of their hands. When he retreated, Lucius's fingers were still curled. His face went ashen. Narcissa hissed in fury, her voice suddenly coarse.

Vegeta was sure that they will not attack him bare-handed. He examined the unseen weapons, holding them crossed on his palm. His eyebrows knitted the wands looked about as dangerous as a pair of drumstick.

Yet, when he was about to crush them in his fist, he felt a strange sort of power in them. Vegeta traced the back of the wands with his thumb; wood was smooth and polished. There _was _something inside a locked daemon, a gene, a ghost. The prince flipped his palm, and watched warily, as the wands fell under his feet.

"Interesting." he muttered.

Vegeta didn't wait until his enemies-allies will arm themselves again. He grabbed the Portkey and lost his ground, flying through space with no boundaries and no limits.


	2. Among The Pawns

**CHAPTER 2 - Among The Pawns**

Vegeta looked around. His chest was still heaving from the magical flight he'd just experienced. Though it was very brief, the Saiyan was sure that he was now standing miles away from the manor. As soon as he reached the destination, the wine glass detached from his fingers and was now lying by his feet.

The territory he'd been sent to looked uninhabited. Endless meadows, though instead of soft, small grass, common in the West, they were covered with rough clumps, moss and an occasional red bloomed flower.

The prince was standing on top of a burial mound. He knew that his feet were treading someone's grave. Bulma had once told him that in ancient days, when a man died, his body would be burned to ashes, so that his soul is free from chains of flesh. To her surprise, Vegeta told her that the Saiyans did that too. Funeral customs was one of the few things on Earth the prince approved of.

There was a pillar on the mound. Vegeta stepped closer. A sign was engraved upon marble surface - the same symbol Vegeta saw on Narcissa's wrist for a second, when she opened the gates. The prince slowly reached out his gloved hand and laid his palm on the pillar.

Green flame lit up in the scotchs, and a piercing siren burst out of nowhere. Vegeta jumped, expecting an attack.

With a loud pop, a cloaked figure appeared at the bottom of the mound, and started ascending the hill towards the Saiyan, who shifted into defensive crouch. Vegetas eyes strayed to the stranger's right hand. He was armed with a wand.

The cloaked man looked at the still-green sign on the pillar, then turned his head to the prince.

"Did you activate the signal?"

Vegeta nodded, still on his guard.

The man eyed him carefully. His brow wrinkled, when he saw that the Saiyan no wand. Then he noticed the Portkey. The man kneeled (Vegeta forced himself not to step back) and picked it up. He turned it about, staring at silver inlay.

"Ah…" he muttered. "Lucius."

The cloaked man looked at Vegeta with amused curiosity.

"Who the hell are you?" the prince asked sourly.

Pale lips twisted into a crooked smile.

"An emissary, I suppose." he twisted around, turning his chin slightly to Vegeta - an invitation to follow.

o - o - o

Vegeta's well trained eyes scanned the territory. He was alarmed. All he could see was a vacant field, a clearing, surrounded by woods. The closest thing to them was a building, that resembled an office.

Where was a training hall? Where was the sound of men clashing into each other, the smell of sweat anf blood?

The emissary cleared his throat.

"No need to be so curious, young man." he grinned. "It's not a trip to a toy factory."

Vegeta realized that they didn't want him to look around too much. He smirked darkly.

"Are you sure? From where I came, this place wouldn't even make a decent playground for children."

He was surprised when the man laughed too.

"Actually, this _is_ a playground. We're not inside yet."

The headed towards the building. Just like Vegeta expected, the door was marked with that iconic symbol. A serpent, its body coiled twice, forming an eight. It had escaped the prince's notice before, but he'd seen this image a lot in the manor. Serpents appeared on candlesticks, drinking vessels, the table. Perhaps it was a bit more than just the couple's morbid attraction to reptiles.

Just like Vegeta expected, the emissary didn't try to unlock the door himself. He used his wand to create a silvery, semi-transparent form. It approached the door in a couple of hare-like leaps and disappeared behind the wood.

About half a minute later, the hinges screeched, and another cloaked figure appeared in the doorway.

"We've got a volunteer." the emissary said, clasping Vegeta's shoulder. "Lucius sent him."

The cloaked man nodded.

"Fine. I'll lead him to the recruitment station. You're free to go." he added, when the emissary didn't move.

"I'll tag along. My gut tells me that it's not going to be an ordinary case…"

o - o - o

The three of them crossed a small corridor, passing a few doors on the way. After a few more turns, the corridor emerged into a huge round hall.

The emissary grinned at Vegeta.

"_Now _you may look and marvel."

Vegeta had no witty comeback this time. All he could do was stare. His opaque pupils narrowed at bright illumination.

The hall was buzzing with people. Not all of which were actually humans.

Among very ordinary-looking faces, scattered around the huge room,the prince noticed that some that looked different from the others. Ones were short and crouched, clad in dirty rags, their small heads framed by elfish, pointed ears. From their humble carriage, Vegeta immediately recognized them as slaves.

Some of the rest were of small stature as well. They looked even more apaling than previous race. These small men had long, carrot-shaped noses and their ears stretched far out from their heads. Overall, they resembled old, wrinkled dwarfs.

Dozens of fireplaces were built into the walls, with the names of destination written above. The Saiyan saw people queueing to them. Once they had their turn, peple would throw a handful of powder into the hearth, arousing emerald flames. Then they'd step into the fireplace and disappear out of sight. No one so much as winced, when tongues of fire touched their skin.

Vegeta shuddered. What kind of creatures are they, this race? Does their magic make them invincible, immune to any kind of pain? If so, then this whole affair was doomed before it even started. Even he, the prince, could not fight gods.

"Hurry up. We don't have the whole day."

They dove into the sea of faces. Vegeta's body tensed at the contact every time someone accidentally touched him. Even when Bulma once dragged him to the shopping mall in one of the most crowded regions of West City, Vegeta hadn't felt so insecure. He gritted his teeth. All danger lay in ignorance. How could he not fear the unknown?

Their destination was a huge desk at the back of the hall. The emissary and his colleague stopped at the edge of small platform and gestured Vegeta to come forward.

A worker behind the desk straightened his eyeglass and took a blank sheet.

"Name?" he inquired, inking a quill.

"Vegeta."

The worker raised an eyebrow.

"Full name?"

Vegeta clenched his fist. He hated using his last name.

"Vegeta Briefs, son of King Vegeta, the prince of the Saiyan race."

A short scratch on the parchment.

"Age?"

"Thirty seven." His actual age was much higher, due to his Saiyan heritage.

"Pedigree?"

Vegeta hesitated, before he realized what the question meant.

"Pureblood."

A few more ritual questions followed, each draining him of his already short temper. Vegeta sighed inwardly, when he saw that the clerk was now scribbling at the very bottom of the blank.

"Family?"

"My father is King-"

"I mean, wife and children?"

Vegeta stiffened. He shifted into a fighting stance without even realizing it.

"Why do you need to know?" he growled.

"Because it's on the application blank." the clerk replied, annoyed. He glanced at the two men behind the prince's back. "Are you sure that he… has been recommended?"

"Don't worry about that, clerk." the emissary grumbled. "Finish your interrogation."

The clerk turned his attention back to Vegeta again.

"_Wife and children?"_

"None."

"Very well." the worker signed the blank and held it out for the Saiyan to put a signature as well. Just then, he seemed to remember something.

"Show me your wand."

Vegeta stared at him wordlessly, until the clerk snarled and bent over the desk only to see that the prince was empty-handed.

He could hear the emissary whispering into his colleagues's ear:

"I told you this is going to be good…"

o - o - o

Vegeta grunted and tightened his neck muscles. They bloated slightly, and the fifth chain he'd been put under cracked into pieces. Sweat shimmered on his brow, as he panted heavily.

There was no reprieve.

"Again!" the chief guard shouted, and before the Saiyan could gather his strength back, another chain enlaced him. The iron was saturated by magic, it seeped into his chest, and Vegeta felt his strength giving in. The prince slowly succumbed to his knees, holding out and arm to support himself.

The guards - two wizards and one witch - lowered their wands. The woman nodded to their chief.

"He's not resisting anymore. We're finished."

The chief looked at the Saiyan.

"A tough guy, this one. Had enough fight in himself, before finally giving up." There was a glint of awe in his voice.

Vegeta lifted his head slightly, gritting his teeth. _Giving up? Who's giving up?_ He summoned the last bits of his strength and forced himself up. The guards gasped, as he lunged for the witch, thinking her to be the weakest one in the team.

However, he was sadly mistaken. Vegeta grabbed her neck unceremoniously and was about to snap it, when he felt his body petrifying. He cursed silently - such a foolish mistake. He should have pinned her hands first.

"That's not enough!" one of the wizards shouted. "Impediment jinx will only last for a minute or two."

"Let's try Incarceration again, this time all three of us at once!" the witch said.

Vegeta could feel the jinx retreating slowly. The sensation was qualmish - as if he was being pulled through a mass of stiff gel. He tried desperately to fight off the remaining jinx, to make it disappear faster, but it was too late.

The guards enclosed him like three vultures, raised their wands and yelled in unison. The triple-voiced incantation unleashed a spell much more powerful than the previous ones. The new chain was too strong.

The guard and their chief waited for a few minuted, but this time the prince did not rise.

"Stand aside" the chief ordered, and the guards backed away to let him through. The man, visibly older than his soldiers, knelt down beside the Saiyan, who was still struggling fiercely like a caught stallion. The chief slowly rolled him on his back.

"Not bad." he told him. "Now stop trashing. You'll be untied as soon as we get you into your… um… apartments."

"I was just about to ask, sir." one of the wizards came forward. "Where exactly would that be?"

"Well, it's not like there is a huge variety of acomodation here, Elington." the chief rose to his feet. "Excessive physical strength, no magical skills. Tameless nature and fiery temper. Sounds familiar, huh?"

o - o - o

The deeper they went into the forest, the darker it became. Tree trunks were thicker with every step. Finally they reached the point, where run rays could no longer pierce through the treetops. This was where natural light had to be replaced by torches. Vegeta wondered what people did to prevent fires, especially at this season, but then again, they were wizards and witches. They might as well be able to ignite water.

The chief guard was about to lift another fallen trunk that came in their way, when they saw a couple of birds shooting into the sky, scared away from their nest.

"Here we go." the chief muttered. He glanced at Vegeta. "Now I strongly suggest that you shut your mouth and _make as little noise as possible. _We've almost arrived."

"To the den of dinosaurs!" the wizard named Elington crooned, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up, Ellie." the witch scolded. "I'm starting to thing that you would serve our cause better as a giant's lunch than a member or the guard team."

"Oh, don't fret, Bertha, darling. I won't let a big, bad giant touch your-"

"Giant? What do you mean, _giant?" _ Vegeta hissed under his breath, minding the chief's advice.

"Yes, if you would kindly _shut up_. You're scaring our guest here." the chief said half-tauntingly. Suddenly he raised a hand to stop the party.

"General Gwalder?" he whispered. His voice echoed through the woods.

A few moments later, a bright light lit up. It must have been a signal, because everyone moved on. Vegeta, still chained, followed them. As soon as he stopped trashing, swearing and shouting threats at the top of his lungs, the chief let him walk on his own, instead of being dragged. Vegeta accepted this gesture. He strolled behind the rest of the party, hoping that his impassive face and proud posture would make up for the loss of dignity.

The he saw cages. Dozens of them, too big for any animal inhabittng this planet. They were set among the trees, forming a sort of a campsite. In the centre there was a small building. A wizard was leaning against the front wall. He grinned at the approaching party.

"Well, hey there, chief. Want a tour guide around the zoo?"

'No, we have a new _pet _for you." the chief replied, pushing Vegeta forward. "We thought he might fit in. There wasn't any other place for him anyway. Take care, he's got a strength of three or more giants."

"He does?" the general's face turned pale, as he eyed the Saiyan. He tried to compose himself. "Well, just one question, then - how big a dose d'you think he will need?"

"Four, maybe five times the normal, I guess." the chief shrugged. "Keep him well and healthy. He'll make a fine weapon when the day comes."

With that, he and the guards went away.

The general rose his wand and suddenly, a new cage appeared. Vegeta's eyes widened. There was no way he can be forced into it. Anything, but not this…

"Derek!" the general shouted. A man came out of the house, with a vial of white liquid in his hand.

"Drug him. Five times the normal dose."

The assistant nearly dropped the vial.

"Five times! For this… this…" he looked at Vegeta at the general's left. "_Who _is he?"

"I've no idea." general Gwalder replied. "But the chief warned me that he's strong. Go closer to him. Slowly, Derek." he warned, as his assistant approached the Saiyan.

"Stay away from me!" Vegeta snarled, baring his teeth. Derek stopped at safe distance, not sure how to proceed. His hand was trembling slightly, and the liquid shimmered. One tiny drop splashed on the Saiyan's lip. It was sweet and heavy, and caressing like desert rain. Vegeta's lips parted against his will to taste more of this intoxicating elixir.

"I… I will… get out… one day… I swear..." he muttered. His eyelids dropped.

o - o - o

Two days had passed. Vegeta stared at the woods, gritting his teeth, when his eyes stumbled on the cage bars. He was never able to look past them. He had never had his sight blocked like this. Vegeta closed his eyes, leaninig his head against the cage wall. Rest had abandoned him in those two days. At least he had silence. There were no repulsive grunts and roars from neighboring cages.

A scowl between the prince's eyes deepened, and he spat on the floor. Those beasts were nothing but overgrown infants - giggling and drooling, when in happy mood. If only that would be the worst! The sulks they experienced much more often turned them into barbaric creatures. Any glimpse of intelligence they sometimes displayed would die, giving way to raw frenzy, and they would trot around, pulling trees out with the roots, trampling them to dust and, quite often, tearing apart a bird or an elk that happened to pass by. And to think that he, a warrior, a Saiyan, _a prince, _was put among those… those disgusting freaks of nature, filthy, worthless pawns… Vegeta shielded his eyes with his hand and hissed in despair. He had to break free, somehow. Anyhow.

Finally the prince fell to a shallow slumber. Soon his hair was gilded by the daybreak. In this prison, there was no training, nor hard labour. Only endless, insufferable boredom.

A sound of rustling keys jerked Vegeta awake.

"Get out." Derek said, pointing his wand at the Saiyan. Vegeta glared at him, blinking the drowse off his eyes.

"What the _fuck _is it?" he growled. "As you can see, your blasted juice is still working. Time for the next dose is only in-"

"Whoa, hold your horses. It wasn't my idea." the assistant snapped. "Our Master is coming to check on his legions. It's not often that he decides to visit us, so consider it a great honor. Now get a move on. Follow the general."

Vegeta knew that arguing was pointless. He slowly rose to his feet, cursing as a sharp pain shot through his head, spreading dizziness to his blood. The restraining elixir was much more practical than heavy chains. Even though his _ki _was unharmed, he had no energy resources to put it to use. His strong Saiyan body was now nothing more than a bag of bones and flesh. Vegeta shoved this thought away. The only way to save his sanity was not to think about it.

He followed general Gwalder out of the woods together with other giants, trying desperately to tune our their obnoxious babble. They came to the same empty field he saw two days ago. There were a few hundreds of humans and other creatures, standing to form orderly squares. The general arranged them into a same square-shaped legion and moved to stand at the side of the army with other generals and Death Eaters, a group of their "Masters" minions, especially favored by him.

They waited a few long minutes. Then, a sound of horn pierced the air. Solemn silence covered the clearing. No one dared to move. Vegeta narrowed his eyes, anxious to meet this mysterious persona, in whose name he was enslaved.

One by one, the generals and Death Eaters' heads turned to the left, fear and awe washing through their faces.

There were no welcoming shouts, no hoorays, but Vegeta could feel a new presence entering the field. He didn't turn his head to look, though. The prince waited, till the "Master" comes closer.

Something was off, though. Vegeta frowned. He felt, rather than saw, the soldiers stiffening with silent fear. This circle of fright was approaching him, but Vegeta couldn't hear _him _coming any closer. There was no way Saiyan's ears could miss the sound of footsteps.

Vegeta couldn't fight the instinct any longer. He turned his head. It took all his nerve to stifle a gasp, when he saw a black-clothed figure only two rows away. He glided through his legions like a feather, swept by the wind. Swift and silent.

The prince could now see his face. It was disgustingly… human. Vegeta forced back a bile. He had seen thousands of monsters in his lifetime. The hideousness of their faces was nothing to him. This wizard, on the other hand, was a parody of human. He looked like a morbidly failed result of an intercourse between human and a reptile. A creature that could possibly have a forked tongue and shed his skin.

There was only one remaining row. Vegeta noticed that every soldier the creature passed would bow his head and stay so. He didn't consider for a second that he would be bowing too. Vegeta had not bent his neck for anyone in almost a decade now. There was no one in universe as morbidly sick and manipulative as Frieza had been. No one else will ever have power over the prince.

Vegeta squared his shoulders, stretching his back to the point of pain and adopted a nonchalant countenance.

After a few moments, the creature noticed him.

He stared at Vegeta, and the Saiyan knew immediately what this will cost him. These were eyes, that did not know forbearance. If there was a trigger nearby, it would be eliminated, said the eyes. Vegeta cursed in his head. He'd counted too much for him to be like Frieza. If there was Frieza, standing before the prince, he would break Vegeta's neck and thus get his way, as he always did. This master had different rules, it seemed. In his game, resistance costs lives.

Vegeta saw that he was right, when the creature slowly, gracefully lifted his wand. The Saiyan noticed that he handled his weapon like a conductor would handle his baton. An artist of Death.

Suddenly, at this very moment, Vegeta realized a strange thing about the wizard's _ki. _Unlike the most humans' he had met, this _ki _seemed much more durable. More than that. It was… Vegeta's eyes nearly stuck out of their sockets. Protected. Vegeta's mental sight could sense six covers around the main nucleo of _ki, _shielding it from the outside harm. The prince knew instantly what it meant. When a living being is injured to the point of death, a _ki _breaks free from the body, entering a higher level of existence - becoming a soul. Those six shield wouldn't allow the _ki _to transform. It would remain confined in flesh and bones. After the decomposition process begins and the body is no longer suitable for dwelling, the _ki _would move out to search for another host - any living creature, and invade his body.

According to an old human saying, cats had nine lives. It was only a myth. This creature literary had seven lives. Like a parasite, he would take over a new body, when the latter is no longer available. What a disgusting case of reincarnation.

All this thinking was done in a few moments. Vegeta was now hanging between life and death. Once again, he cursed the magic that restrained his body. Well, the Saiayn mused bitterly, at least he had a nice, little lesson from "Discovery Channel."

"My Lord!" general Gwalder leaped forward. His hand reached out tentatively. "Please forgive this novice. It seems like… my assistant… forgot to instruct him on proper etiquette. He will take full responsibility. This soldier is of unknown species. Very valuable. Have mercy on him, I beg you."

The wizard slowly turned his head. His snake-like nostrils flared.

"How noble of you, general." he sneered. "You do realize, what "full responsibility" means, don't you?"

The general swallowed hard.

"Y-yes, my Lord." he whispered.

"Very well, then. I will pay him a visit tonight."

The general shivered.

Vegeta smirked. How ironic that he, a slave, would have his jaller as a scapegoat, when it should be the other way around. Fate truly had a twisted sense of humor. At least now it favored the prince.

o - o - o

Vegeta's head was pounding with anxiety. He paced around the cage, gnawing on the tip of his gloves - an action quite unusual for him. Last dose of elixir hadn't worn off yet, but today, it had come as close to it as never before.

The Saiyan's ears caught voices of two people talking. High-pitched, panicked. He grinned, knowing what the argument was about.

"YOU CRUEL BASTARD! IDIOT! SWINE!"

"Derek, I-I'm sorry. I had no choice-"

"Oh, of course you hadn't! The idea of throwing _him _to the wolves hadn't even occurred to you, no, he was just too precious and valuable to sacrifice! Why let the Master kill him, when you can use your assistant as a scapegoat?"

"Maybe he didn't really mean it-"

"Didn't really mean it? Oh, FUCKING PLEASE! He once killed two of his most loyal Death Eaters just because they forgot to feed his pet snake. I'M GOING TO DIE TONIGHT!"

Vegeta could head the beast at the cage next to him growl in his sleep.

"Derek, keep yourself together, at least. Who could have known that this idiot brute wouldn't bow his head?"

"It's your fault! My only responsibility was to drug him. Whatever. I'm leaving right now."

"Good luck." the general sounded sad. "I wouldn't hope too much. Remember what happened to Karkaroff?"

"I can't just stay here and do nothing. Good bye, general. Merlin damn you." Vegeta heard the sound of running.

He exhaled sharply. Now he had a clear plan in his head, but it all was hanging on a single hair. The timing.

Two minutes passed.

One minute. Vegeta's pacing quickened.

One more minute. The prince could feel his Saiyan energy returning to his blood and muscles. Soon, very soon…

One and three quarters. He was ready.

A few owls in a tree nearby squeaked at the sound of snapping iron bars.

o - o - o

The guards came about thirty seconds too late. The only thing they saw was their prisoner scooting towards the woods so fast that the air around him shimmered. However, they knew well that speed would not save him.

Vegeta fought the temptation to abandon firm ground and rise to the skies, where no one could catch him. However, what did he know of this race's abilities? They would probably sense his _ki _and detect him immediately. Vegeta kept running.

Just as he reached the edge of the woods, three figures stood there, already waiting for him. Vegeta stopped, his head pounding in fury. He had no time to turn around and flee. There was only one way - forward.

The Saiyan moved too fast for the guards to follow. He approached one of the wizards, the one that had never displayed particular skill in fighting. Avoiding flashes of spells by sheer instinct, he shot a hand through his chest. The wizard fell to the ground, not putting an ounce of fight. What a weakling.

The other two surrounded him like wolves. Being smart enough, they created a protective shields around them, so that Vegeta could not touch them. Dancing his way out of their spells, the prince shot a hale of blasts, but it had no impact on the shields. Seconds turned into minutes, and neither opponent was able to snatch victory.

"Well, well. What a splendid performance." now-familiar voice said. All the fighters froze in spot, except for Vegeta, who used those several bonus seconds to move away from the target centre.

So the creature had come after all. Vegeta wondered if he had already delivered his "punishment".

Two green flashes pierced the air. The guards, Elington and the powerful witch, fell to the ground like trees, cut by a lightening bolt. Vegeta could only see their eyes going blank, and feel their _ki _going out. Just like that. Not a drop of blood was shed.

Vegeta stared, repulsed and marveling at the same time.

The wizard cocked his head to the side.

"The general did a smart thing to defend you. It would have been a shame to loose a rare bird like yourself. That young fool, who didn't teach you the manners, made a fine dinner to my snake." Vegeta shuddered.

The creature advanced.

"However, I dolove discipline. Let us not forget what out parents taught us.' he mocked. "Manners matter. You _will _bow to me."

"The hell I will."

Vegeta crossed his arms. The wizard had no intent to kill him, he made that clear. The prince was now at liberty to defy him.

"Let me enlighten you, soldier." Vegeta hissed silently at a mocking title. "Your valor may seem remarkable at first, but I forgot for a moment that you are of another world. Some place, where my name is still unknown. I am Lord Voldemort. You, as all my slaves, will address me as "my Lord", or "Master".

This was too much for Vegeta.

"A slave?" he snarled, his mouth all but seething with venom. Ground shook under his feet, as he powered up. "Me, a slave? I WILL NOT LISTEN TO ONE MORE WORD OF THIS BULLSHIT!"

Vegeta was trembling. His rage was getting out of control.

"Let me enlighten _you _then." he spat. "I belong to the Saiyan race, a tribe of the mightiest warriors in the whole universe. We are the terror of galaxies! Our fury can turn the hell upside down! And I, I am their Prince!" Vegeta's voice came down like thunder, as he pronounced the title with all the passion and pride he had in himself. "No one can insult me and escape with their lives. Especially not a pathetic, weak human like yourself."

"Oh, but I am much more than human."

Voldemort raised his wand. Vegeta crouched, preparing to shy away from the flash, but, to his surprise, no visible sign of magic came. His eyes widened.

And then something heavy landed on his back. It sticked to his skin like a giant, invisible leech, and Vegeta once again felt all his strength being sucked out of him. His knees gave in, and the prince slowly collapsed to the mud.

"Ah…" Voldemort said, coking his head to the side. His eyes narrowed in curiosity. "A kindred spirit, indeed." He let out a laugh. "I have no intent to call a worm like you by a royal title, however, I don't doubt it. The way your shoulders are squared back and your chin held high, even when you are completely at my mercy, gives away your worthiness. You are my mirror, soldier." he chuckled. "I may not recognize nor regard your nobility, but I will always admire…"

"Don't fool yourself, though, I have no intent to let you live. At first I thought, perhaps you would make a useful weapon. You are certainly too capable to serve a mere pawn in this game of thrones. Alas, you are not the puppet-type. Princely prideful, oh yes, _amour-propre _is usually bulletproof. You have seen dissappoinments in your life, haven't you? The fact that your hide is still so shiny, tells enough."

Voldemort started circling around him like a vulture.

"You are of the same sort I had to deal with ever since I first took power." he said idly. "The rebellious. I can imagine they'd want you on their side. But you are trapped in a foreign world, soldier. The world, where physical power equals nothing. You couldn't stand being ranked the lowest, and tried to break away. Not that I'd care, but your little fire show interrupted some business I was attending. You will pay for this."

Pale, skinny index finger was gently stroking the wand.

"I can read your mind like painted canvas, soldier. Merlin knows what a dose of excruciating pain could do to such damaged consciousness. In case you are… difficult, the process might reduce to to an empty, walking shell."

Voldemort's usually high-pitched voice was now a gentle murmur. It seeped into Vegeta's ears like a snake, locking his senses and giving way to pure horror. He'd known this before, not long ago. There was once another voice, high and shrill like an old hag's, yet so deadly. The voice of a circus's director, telling about the upcoming morbid show. Or trying to manipulate him into begging for mercy. The prince never yielded. Except for that one time, when… Vegeta closed his eyes. He will not think about it. He will not question what would happen if this evil bastard found out about his weak spot.

Voldemort took a step closer. The Saiyan could now smell the reek of decay, surrounding him.

"Shall we begin?"

The words struck Vegeta like a whip. There was no way to escape. He could feel the spell gliding up his opponent's wand, as if it had its own _ki. _And if it did, the spell was going to be oh so damn powerful. The prince's body stiffened, awaiting the stroke.

Instead, came a sneer.

"How I love doing this to brave men like yourself. I will have quite a while to enjoy this."

Vegeta closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. Some small, soft part inside him curled up tightly.

The Sayan's ears did not register the spell. He only felt a huge power being unleashed from the tip of Voldemort's wand. The curse, as a substance, was featherless. It took it a fraction of second to wrap around Vegeta's whole body, creep into his veins, muscles and bones. The next thing he knew was pain.

Was this pain, Vegeta asked himself, while writhing silently under soaring flames. The same question haunted his mind when Frieza stood before him, instead of this serpent-faced fool. Every seance of torture used to be more agonizing than the one before. At the end of it, the prince was left to lie haggard and question himself - how can the pain still get worse? Was there no limit?

Suddenly, all Vegeta could see was crimson red beneath his eyelids. He still hadn't let out a sound. Not pride, but his iron will, built up during extreme work outs, helped him stifle screams and moans.

Suddenly, the Saiyan felt his brain being racked, harrowed by mental claws. Even in such pain, Vegeta could feel hundreds of his memories being picked up and sifted by the wizard's dirty mind, slowly baring his soul. Searching for weaknesses, no doubt. What would happen, if…

"Ah." Voldemort's surprised voice again brought shivers down his spine. "What a discovery. I never would have guessed. Let us try to be more… specific."

No, Vegeta thought, no. Anything, but not this. His head jolted back. And then it came - the epicentre of pain, which was previously distributed to his whole body, now flowed to the stump of his tail, the most sensitive spot of Saiyan's body. It took Frieza about two weeks to discover this "Achilles heel", as he'd called it, while this bastard found out in a matter of minutes.

This was more that the prince could handle. His throat vibrated with powerful screams, every of which tearing apart his sensitive eadrdums, until blood spilled from his ears.

Time had lost it's frames. Second, minute, a quarter - they all merged into one crimson red infinity.

Without a warning, the pain subsided, and suddenly Vegeta found himself gasping for breath on cold ground. His body was contorted in a shape he could never even imagine, trembling and jerking. He turned his stinging eyes to the bastard. Voldemort's face bore a countenance of… disappointment?

"We have run out of time, soldier. This is your lucky night." Voldemort started to walk away, only to halt suddenly, as if he remembered something. "One more thing, soldier. In case you are imbecile enough to play a trick on me again, I will crush you like a bug that you are." With these words, the bastard turned on his heel and disappeared into thin air, literally, taking that odor of decay along. The night tasted pure again.


	3. The First Step

**CHAPTER 3 - The First Step**

Vegeta opened his eyes. First thing he saw was a stripped pattern of sun rays gleaming through the cage bars. The prince slowly sat up. Pressure on his neck and chest was gone. He looked down - the chain had been removed.

His head was spinning with questions. He winced at the painful memory of last night.

Vegeta's mind had been merciful enough to erase most of the details. The only thing he remembered with clarity was pain. Searing torture and crimson blur beneath his eyelids, as he writhed under Voldemort's wand. He remember that the wizard told him things, but could not recall his words. Perhaps it had all been just a dream? A horrid nightmare, induced by some potion, to make the Saiyan more cooperative?

Vegeta shook his head, trying to rid himself of his daemons. Humiliation. Helplessness. Trampled pride. The prince forced them all out. He will have all the time in the world to lick his wounds. Now there was another issue to be dealt with. Runaway.

The prince racked his brain for a few minutes, until he came up with a rather plausible solution. Simple though it was, it relied purely on chance. Vegeta clenched his teeth in fierce determination. He must succeed this time. Once again, however, he will have to wait until evening.

o - o - o

The Saiyan tilted his head at the sound of footsteps. Turning his face to the cage wall, he grinned a predator's smile.

Soon after he heard a low, but screechy grinding noise of a key being inserted into a rusty lock.

"Time for a nap, soldier."

Vegeta slowly turned around. He was glad that the cage was spacious enough to leave enough distance between him and the general, who had just entered. He was holding a vial of familiar white, shimery liquid, but this time the prince's eyes focused on the pocket of his coat, where, he knew, was another bottle. His solution.

"Don't move." the general ordered. Vegeta turned his head to the side, indicating an apathetic surrender, however, his eyes were still glued to the pocket. The Saiyan didn't know exactly how much strength the elixir allowed him, but this time a bit of precipitance was all he needed.

He watched intently as the man approached, still as cautiously as the first time. Vegeta opened his mouth, forcing his face to look as nonchalant as possible. He waited for the right moment.

The general extended a hand with the vial, focusing only on his prisoner's throat, and suddenly Vegeta ducked under his arm and shoved a hand into the pocket, a movement faster than a snake's lunge. He pulled out a small bottle and appeared behind the general's back to gain some extra seconds. Vegeta didn't waste time to unscrew the vial, he tore off the lid instead. It didn't require much muscle, at least at his level. He danced out of a hale of spells that flew towards him.

The prince nearly choked at repulsive taste of what he suspected to be an energizing tonic. He had noticed the general taking a sip or two every few hours and how his eyes would glint at a rush of energy. Vegeta had no idea how the liquid would affect his Saiyan system, nor if it would help to retrieve his strength back, but this small bottle was all he could count on.

From the general's reaction he guessed that the result will be to his advantage.

"No! NO! GUARD!" the man screamed, backing himself against the wall. His magic was for once useless against Vegeta's agility. The prince easily dodged every single flash of spells.

He laughed mockingly.

"Have you forgotten that they're all dead? Two of them were killed by your precious _Master." _

Vegeta could feel his muscles bloating slightly, regaining their usual capacity. He licked his lips. Finally he was free of all restraints. No witch or wizard, who had contributed to his enslavement, will escape his wrath.

He finished the general off with a small _ki _blast, and then blowed the whole cage up. He shot to the air. People and other creatures bursted from everywhere, alarmed by an inextinguishable, gloating laughter that echoed throw the woods.

"Who is it? Have you seen anyone?" the air filled with their panicked babbling.

Vegeta scowled, floating in spot, knowing that he couldn't fight them on equal terms, especially when there were so many of them. Odds were on their side. However, he still had his power. Due to his previous experience, the prince now had a better idea how to proceed.

He powered up to Ascended Super Saiyan and brought all his _ki _to the surface, letting it roll off the centre of his body in giant waves of destruction, creating an impenetrable field of energy around him. A few wizards and witches that had approached him screamed in agony, as the heat singed their faces.

Vegeta grinned, knowing that he was on the right course. No one will be able to get close enough to flash a spell. The prince headed towards the forest in the speed of a jet plane.

However, just as he approached the edge of the woods, a witch blocked his way. Vegeta recognized her - on the day Voldemort had visited his legions, she was standing at the side, wearing a mask. She must be one of the Death Eaters, then. A worthy opponent.

She flipped her tangle of hair back and grinned wildly. Something about her face and posture was different from the others. Wilder. Her eyes were bulging like a madwoman's. Vegeta felt unease seep into his chest.

"Oh look_, _a golden retriever!" she exclaimed with a fake sweet little girl's voice. "I think you're just _dying _to get some cuddle." she squealed at her own joke.

Vegeta, while being an expert of mockery, found it hard to endure such ridicule himself. He bared his teeth, fire a blast at the witch, but she averted it with a flick of her pistol-shaped wand.

The prince felt his pulse quicken at the challenge. Nothing could stop him now.

"I will roast you like a pig." he spat, shooting a middle-sized Gallic Gun to her direction. To his dismay, she avoided it by vanishing in the spot and reappearing an inch away from the blast. She howled with laughter.

"What a poor skill! Lord forgive me, but it was a disgrace for him to deal personally with a worm like you. Let _me _show you how to put up a true warrior fights."

"Shut your mouth, you filthy hag!" the prince yelled, using his _ki _to block the spells. He increased the field of energy, until the witch backed away, rubbing her hand. Ground beneath them shook with tremors, and trees fell to the ground, their bark smoldering to cinder.

Vegeta's power was getting out of control.

"You will not win this one." he snarled. The witch quickly turned around, the tails of her dress fluttering, and fled. Vegeta followed. He won't let this impudent wench escape.

Denying all sense, he returned back to the base, guided by the hag's squeaky laughter. They entered a narrow street of barracks. Vegeta landed, leaning against the brick wall, and scanned the street for the witches presence.

A few minutes later he chased her into a corner. The witch tried to escape, but Vegeta increased his power again, holding her against the wall with sheer power of his _ki. _The hag couldn't lift her wand to throw a spell. She stared at him with those eyes of a madwoman.

Vegeta heard the sirens set off all around the territory. He knew that he would have to diminish the field of energy to kill the witch with a blast, and thus give her power to use magic. He could also slaughter her bare-handedly like a cattle, but he wasn't willing to take risks this time. The prince had yet to see all the powers of this race. For all he knew, they produced magic through their wands, but they might have other abilities. Vegeta cursed in frustration. There was no time to hesitate.

"You are extremely lucky." he told her. "I have no time to deal with you now, but if we ever meet in future…" he didn't bother to finish. The prince turned around, preparing to leave. His chest was still heaving, blood howling at unquenched thirst of battle.

He heard a thin whizz in the air. Vegeta grinned, not moving until the very last moment, and then bent his head to the side, letting a knife pass by with no harm, missing his neck by a half on an inch. He turned to the wall again.

"It looks like you mi-" and then he saw that the witch was gone.

Vegeta swore at the top of his lungs. He fired a blast to the wall, destroying the barrack to rubble. He squinted, trying to see through the smoke and ashes, looking for the hag. Perhaps she was just hiding.

Preoccupied, Vegeta didn't see nor hear the knife slowly changing direction and diving back for him in high speed. He only felt a slight shiver run down his spine, and he turned around, completely off-guard. The hexed knife sunk to his rib, just below the heart.

The Saiyan howled in fury, rising wobbly to the air. He removed the dagger with a swift pull and stared at a thin layer of his own blood, dripping from the sharp end.

He held the edges of the wound together with one hand and shot to the highest endurable altitude. He had to get home as fast as possible.

o - o - o

Vegeta sighed with relief as he saw a familiar huge dome-shaped building. He flew to the living quarters, aiming for the balcony next to the bedroom he shared with his mate. He landed, a bit more heavily than he should have, and peered through the glass. Bulma was sleeping; an alarm clock beside her side of bed showed 2 AM. Vegeta shoved his hand under the doormat, where a spare key was hidden. He'll just open his wardrobe, where he kept Senzu beans, and the woman wouldn't know a thing...

The prince accidentally brushed his elbow against one of the vases, in which Bulma's air-headed mother had recently put some fresh rosebays. The vase fell down and crashed with a loud thud. Vegeta cursed under his breath.

He saw his mate stir in bed and throw away the sheets.

"_Vegeta?"_

She tore the doors open. The prince could see that she was about to cuss him out, before she noticed the condition he was in. Vegeta was clutching firmly on the rail, grasping at his chest with another hand. His face was drained of color.

Bulma jumped towards the Saiyan, holding out an arm to support him. Vegeta shoved her hand away.

"Listen, woman." he muttered, barely conscious. "I was right…. There… there is a danger… on this planet… A danger no… no one of us… knew before…"

"Vegeta, stop. You're wounded." Bulma gently tore his hand away to examine the harm done, but the prince growled and jerked away. She must listen to him!

"Bulma, they… they are extremely dangerous… They have powers I… can do… nothing against…. some… unknown race… dangerous…" his words grew more and more incoherent. Bulma looked alarmed now.

"Okay, okay. I believe you."

"That's a new one." Vegeta laughed breathlessly.

Bulma stared at him, as if questioning if he was too weak to smack. Then she sighed and took hid hand.

"Try not to move. You've lost a lot of blood."

She wrapped her mate's arm around her shoulder and guided him inside, ignoring his weak protests.

"Give me a Senzu bean. My wardrobe." Vegeta muttered. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. The pain seemed to fade away… And it was never a good sign.

Bulma opened his wardrobe and rose to her tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, where he kept his personal supply of Senzu beans.

"There are none left." she gasped, holding an empty bag.

Vegeta cursed, closing his eyes. Now he remembered that he had used up the last bean to save Mirai Trunks's life in the Lookout. If only Korin had given them more… Blast that cat.

"It will take _days _to heal, then!"

"it won't have to." Bulma told him. "I know I still have the drawings of Regeneration tank somewhere… They are explicit enough that I could build the tank in about two hours. Now lie down, I'll bind up your wound first."

The prince reluctantly let her take care of him. The pain was slowly retreating, giving place to fatigue. He knew that his wound was not fatal and he hadn't hit his head, so it was safe to sleep. He leaned his head against the pillow and let the darkness fall.

o - o - o

Vegeta opened his eyes. At first, he saw nothing but a teal blur, until his eyes adjusted to the healing fluid. He indulged in pleasant relaxing sensations the liquid provided. Vegeta couldn't see a small screen on the outer side of the tank, estimating the time left, but, judging by the way he felt, it should take about an hour for him to heal completely. That dagger wasn't too smart. The Saiyan almost chuckled at the though of a knife having his own mind. It was all that magic…

The prince's thoughts entered a darker sphere. He knew he could avoid it no longer.

How ironic that he, the prince of all Saiyans, knew humiliation so much that it had become his second skin. Vegeta hated to admit it, but his title had served him little. Once again Narcissa's words echoed in his head. _"Trust me, we know how you feel. We know, what it means to have your pedigree trampled on, your privileges ignored." _This race had become his mortal enemies, but he couldn't deny that they shared the same ideas and sentiments.

He foolishly believed that Frieza was the only one ignorant enough to ignore his nobility. That, once he was free of the tyrant, the world will bow to him, the strong-willed survivor, and he will roam the galaxies fearlessly, taking everything that took his fancy. Living the way his father would have wanted him to. Relishing in awareness of his own worth, and having every being bow to him.

He'd been living a lie, then.

All Vegeta believed in was strength. Training was his only pursuit and greatest devotion, Saiyan power - his faith. Just like his father, Frieza and other imposing figures in his life, he was a supporter of the natural law, where the strong destroys the weak. The prince never even thought of himself as evil. To him, this was the natural instinct of survival. Kill or be killed. Take what you can or loose everything. Therefore Vegeta trained to become stronger, powerful enough to be a victor, not a weakling.

A few previous days had shattered his whole world to pieces.

There was a race, somehow able to defy the laws of nature. A race, who had access to a particular force, so much mightier than Saiyan's _ki _or his muscle strength. Naturally, they used this gift to conquer and rule the world. Other humans or races that did not possess magical abilities where viewed as inferior. He, Vegeta, whose name was known in the whole wide universe, was placed in the ranks of the paltriest creatures this planet could breed. All those years with Frieza and his defeat by Kakarot and Cell put together was nothing, compared to this mortification.

Vegeta stared at the top of the tank with unseeing eyes. How could he still live with himself? Fate was a cruel bitch after all. How many times the prince had prayed for a warrior's death to end the suffering, yet it seemed like life itself clung to him, instead of the other way around. W!as there a limit to how low can fall, until he either looses his life, or his whole self - his identity as Vegeta, the prince of Saiyans.

He could not take it anymore. However, perhaps the solution was lying closer than he thought…

Vegeta once again recalled the wizard that had entered the ranks of his arch-enemies, and his sublime secret.

The prince had long forgotten his lifetime ambition to live forever, to have unlimited reserve of years and convert them to unsurpassable strength. After his plans were thwarted on Namek, he had been swayed by other battles and particularly by his undying determination to become the best. Had he only known earlier that there was another way besides the dragon balls!

To be immortal… Kami, it was the right and only solution, it really was!

Overwhelming, almost palpable relief washed over Vegeta. Daemons were no longer eating him alive, now that he had a new course to follow. It was always thus - the prince would set his eyes on a new enterprise and push his past failures aside. Vegeta always thought it was his best quality. Kakarot had his extraordinary talent, but Vegeta possessed sheer determination, adamant will, worthy of a true Saiyan, and, perhaps most importantly - ability to rise from whatever deep pit of mind's hell he'd been fallen to. His vigorous personality would help him a lot - _after _he will have succeeded to achieve eternal life.

Vegeta closed his eyes. Sweetness and spice of upcoming glory replaced the bitter taste on his lips, as he allowed himself to fall to reverie. It was so much harder to heal one's soul than body, and dreams were unarguably the best kind of treatment.

o - o - o

Vegeta shot his eyes open, when he felt the waters descend. A few second later, mouth of the tank flew open. He stepped out slowly, still caught up in his thoughts. In fact, the prince was so preoccupied that he didn't notice Bulma standing right in front of him, until she smacked his chest lightly. He blinked.

"Don't act as if I'm not here!" she shouted, vexed. "I should be the one to play the aggrieved spouse."

Vegeta sighed, looking at her mate. It didn't strike him often, but the woman was so much like him. The way she was standing now, with her arms crossed, her eyes shooting daggers. Yet her voice betrayed deep concern.

"My apologies, woman." he tried his best to put a remorseful note to his voice, which was unnatural to him. The Saiyan unfolded his arms and looked at his mate.

Her dour countenance crumbled, when she saw his face. Despite an hour spent in the tank, Vegeta looked weary. His shoulders were slightly hunched. Bulma recognized this posture, for she had seen it a few times. But what scared her most was vast, unfathomable despair in his face.

The prince, who had been gauging her reaction, closed his eyes and turned his back on her. Goddammit, he didn't want to scare her like this. Now how was he supposed to convince the woman of his cause?

Suddenly he felt her light arms around him. Vegeta flinched.

Bulma looked him in the eyes, her lips trembled and she was about to say something, but Vegeta shook his head. Bulma pressed herself harder to him, patting circles on his back. Vegeta's breath caught at the sensation of her warm, soft body against him. Even after countless times, it still felt alien.

Vegeta tentatively wrapped his hands around her slender waist. He wondered why the woman affected him so much.

When the prince first met her, he thought quietly to himself that he would never understand her. Ever since she invited him to take up residence with her and her crazy parents, it proved true. Vegeta had spent many a night hours lying on top of the gravity room, pondering about this enigmatic sub-species, as he liked to call females. Even Yamcha agreed with him, when he once overheard the Saiyan's musing.

It wasn't until the second year, though, when Vegeta first admitted to himself that the woman _meant _something to him. Why else did he get those strange reactions when she would enter the room, looking extremely dashing in her new black dress, or accidentally run into him at late evening, her blue hair tangled in most… _lovely _way, scent of perfume still clinging to her exposed neck.

Vegeta recalled those nights, when their mating had been particularly gratifying. Bulma would whisper those three words to his ear. Vegeta never returned them. He had always thought of her as his minor weakness. The only weakness he had learned to embrace, instead of fighting to get rid of it. Embrace and even become fond of.

But if it was only a weakness, why did it feel so good to be in her arms? Why did her presence bring such strange warmth to his chest? It was a mystery and a gift. Vegeta accepted it, for what else could he do?

He cupped her chin gently and leaned in, feeling dizzy as he closed the distance between their faces. Bulma slid her arms up to his neck, and their kiss deepened.

All the feelings he was not able to vocalize, he expressed through his body, pouring all the passion he was capable of into the kiss, loosing himself in the exquisite pleasure of her ripe lips caressing his jaw, sliding lower to his neck. At least in physical facet, their relationship was perfect.

Bulma pressed her hands against his chest and drew back, breathing heavily. Freed from the poison of her sweet scent, Vegeta was finally able to think clearly.

"Bulma, I flew to London and traced that strange force to its roots. Now you must listen to me…"

o - o - o

He let her know everything - how he was disarmed and brought to the manor, how the couple deceived him, using his most secret desire, and the new world he'd encountered, the race that had lurked in the underground, and the gift it possessed. The Vegeta revealed how he was captured and enslaved. He left a few things out in this part - the true extent of his humiliation and his greatest discovery.

"You must tell the others." Bulma was gripping tight on the side of the lab table.

"No." Vegeta snapped. "I will not let anyone interfere with this. This race is only my concern. Mine alone. I will deal with it."

Bulma's jaw fell slack.

"Do you mean you are going back, to the people who, you yourself said, you can do nothing against? Vegeta, this is madness!"

"I said no such thing. I was more than capable to kill some dozen of those worms and blast the whole military base to ashes." The prince was exaggerating, but the core was true. "The only reason they were able to capture me is because of those drugs. The power-restraining elixir. As for their magic, it was not at all difficult to avoid their spells. After all, they're only humans."

Vegeta scowled deeply, his eyebrows knitted together. His lips twisted into a smirk.

The woman still didn't look convinced.

"But you don't know them well enough." she insisted. "You've no idea what other abilities they might have! Vegeta, you can't go to them _alone!"_

"I don't have a choice, woman!" the prince shouted, clenching his fists. "Can't you see? I was right all along. There _is_ a new threat on Earth. Something entirely different from what we'd fought before. They must be wiped out of existence, before it's too late. Kakarot it gone." he spat. "His brat is unreliable, and there is no way to contact Trunks from the future, not anytime soon, at least. I am the only one fit for the task."

Bulma opened her mouth, out of pure instinct to argue, the Saiyan thaught tauntingly, because no words came out - she was obviously at loss of arguments.

Vegeta turned his back on her, facing the doorway.

"I have done this kind of job before, woman" he said. "Those days are over, but now it's time to remember my former pursuits. Finally they'll come to use."

o - o - o

The prince was standing in front of a brick wall, frustration threatening to get the better of him. Having had spent a certain amount of time surrounded by magic made him more receptive to its singular trace. Vegeta could sense the radius of magic right behind this wall, but he hadn't been able to get through it. The Saiyan fired another blast, as inefficient as series of Gallic Guns, Final Flashes and Big Bang Attacks he confronted the wall with previously. Not a single brick was cracked.

Vegeta let his arm drop. He decided not to waste precious energy on this. The wall was surely reinforced by magic, which rendered his attempts futile.

The prince leaned closer to the wall, examining the bricks. Searching for the iconic "lock", even though he didn't have the key.

A few minutes later, Vegeta felt a foreign _ki _behind his back.

He quickly rose to his feet, facing an old man, about Krillin's height, staring at him unobtrusively.

By no doubts, a wizard.

The man cleared his throat.

"May I offer my help, sir? I assume, you were trying to open the passage to Diagon Alley." he said, fidgeting with the tips of his hoary moustache. "No need to stress yourself." he added urgently, hunching at Vegeta's notorious minatory stare. "All you need to do is tap a combination of bricks with your wand…"

Vegeta stepped aside, letting the wizard do his job. He had no idea what this "Diagon Alley" was. The old man must have confused him to a non-magical friend of a witch or wizard.

"There." the wizard said, turning back. He was wearing an excellently composed expression, which only senior gentlemen of status were capable of. It crumbled, when he saw the prince marching right through an opened gap in the wall, without a word of gratitude.

"Good journey, sir!"

Vegeta hadn't gone far enough to miss the man's quiet murmur:

"Muggles these days… No respect for the elder..."

o - o - o

Vegeta stood at the entrance for a while, leaning on the now-closed brick wall, taking in the sight of the alley, lying before his eyes. Nearly four years spent on this planet had not prepared him for this.

For a second, the prince found it easier to believe that he had entered a bygone era, a time untouched by modern style and technology. The alley was narrow and winding, so he could only see a small part of it, but the architectural difference between this area and West City was conspicuous. The street was clad in dark shades, all the houses were either made of wood, or built from dark bordeaux bricks. Overall, the alley created menacing impression. Vegeta instantly took liking to it.

Vegeta peered through a windows of a few shops. His usually unerring vision had to be playing tricks on him, for how could anyone explain a bunch of furry, predacious books, locked in a cage, biting pages out of each other? Or a pack of frogs in the candy store, crawling and leaping like real amphibians? Vegeta tore his yes away from these freakish spectacles and remembered why he was here in the first place. He strolled onwards.

After he was out of the central part, Vegeta realized that the alley was rotting. Many stores were closed, houses abandoned, and the streets empty even though the day had just begun. On the side of the street, there was a young beggar woman. She had a pet monkey, dancing to draw a penny or two from bypassers. Vegeta looked closer. His lips twisted in disgust - the monkey's main bones and joints were broken, and the witch used her wand to make it skip like a puppet doll.

The woman raised her eyes expectantly, when Vegeta approached. She gestured towards a small pot. Only a few coins were inside.

"Thank you for your generosity, s-"

Vegeta grabbed her right arm and cracked her wrist and forearm. The witch squeaked piercingly. Vegeta held his breath for a second, expecting a policeman to show up and try to punish him for this mayhem. That would slow him down…

Fortunately, no one showed up. Vegeta realized that such scenes must be common in this place.

The prince looked back at the witch. She was cradling her arm on her chest, whimpering quietly.

"What… what did you do that for?"

Vegeta growled and caught her other arm.

"Just for you to know the feeling."

He considered breaking her left wrist, but then cursed at himself for even giving a damn for such things. He didn't understand what had triggered him. The prince spat on the ground and turned away.

o - o - o

About fifteen minutes later, Vegeta saw a couple of Death Eaters, leaving an old inn. A drunkard, resting nearby, quickly moved out of their way. The couple cussed him out. One of them swung at the man, with a wand instead of a fist. The young man cried out, gripping his cheek, which now bore a deep scar.

Vegeta waited until all three of them were gone, and entered the inn.

He chose a table in the corner, perfect spot for spying, and settled himself. The place was thin. An inn keeper rushed towards the Saiyan immediately, delighted with a new customer.

"Hello there, good sir! You chose a fortunate moment to visit my humble place - there is a discount for our best-" he was cut off by Vegeta's stare.

"O-of course." the man stuttered. "Excuse me, sir. I'll make sure that no one disturbs you here." with his, he left. Vegeta smirked roguishly, as he saw him ducking under the bar to wipe an already shiny wine glass. The prince shrugged his shoulders - it seemed like this race was not that different from the humans he knew. Both were equally easy to scare off, like a bunch of pigeons.

A quarter of an hour had passed. Vegeta was fatally bored. He was just about to leave this miserable hole, when he caught a few words from a conversation between two witches. He froze in spot.

"… things are not getting any better. No one had seen the Potter boy since-"

"Hush, Mirabelle!" the other woman looked around nervously. Vegeta lowered his eyes. "You'll get yourself into Azkaban one day."

"Well, it's not like Potter's name is a taboo. _Yet." _the witch chuckled without humor. "Anyway, as long as that boy is alive, I will have hope. If anyone can end this terror, it will be him."

"I don't know…" the other woman pouted. "A friend of my, professor Sprout, who teaches in Hogwarts school, once told me that Potter was not particularly talented. Quidditch being the only exception. She said he was the best Seeker of his generation. Still, people need something more than an expert broom rider. I don't know we everyone still worships him." she sighed. "The boy's surviving that night was probably a lucky accident."

"Rumor has it, that the boy and his two friends have accomplished some great deeds during their six years in Hogwarts. All this talk about him retrieving the Philosopher's stone, killing the basilisk, escaping You-Know-Who during the Triwizard Tournament… Potter must be special."

"Special or not, it doesn't seem like he's ready for fight. What's become of out world, Mirabelle?" the pessimist witch moaned. "We live in hell. You can't deny it. Ever since _they _took power, no one can feel safe. Sometimes I can empathize with all those sentiments about pure blood, but, goddamit, it's so impractical to wipe out all Muggle-born witches and wizards. With this policy, we will be extinct in less than a century!"

The other witch took her hand.

"It _will _come to an end, Eveleen. Sooner or later, the people rebel against the tyrants. It's just how it works. If a war breaks out, we will know where we stand. Good guys must win." she laughed.

"Do you still believe in fairytales, old maid?"

"I believe in Shacklebolt and McGonnagal. If they lead us, we'll beat the living crap out of that bastard and his army. Now let's get some spirit into you, girl. How about some more Firewhiskey?"

Vegeta leaned back into his chair, ruminating over what he'd just heard.

This world was just as complicated as the one he lived in. He'd been a fool to think that he was dealing with a bunch of pricks here. As it turned out, there were two opposing forces. The good and the evil. Vegeta snorted. It was so easy to see the world this way. Only black and white. If only his life was so easy…

The prince had made up his mind. The answer he was looking for could be anywhere. But some place, called Hogwarts, sounded the most promising. Vegeta understood only a small part of the conversation, but one thing caught his mind. _The Philosopher's Stone._

This name struck a string in the prince's memory of those three years between the attack of androids. He remembered Bulma once trying to entertain him with the mythology of human world. With her female intuition, she guessed what would interest Vegeta most, and mentioned a myth about a stone all alchemists craved for, which would give it's owned eternal life. The Saiyan had laughed at the legend, writing it off as a mere tale, invented by a lunatic. But now that he heard this...

Vegeta nodded to himself. If such item really existed, it could only be found in a world as unthought-of and magical as the object itself.

He had just taken the first step into his journey.

"Excuse me, sir, we are closing for the lunch break." The inn keeper approached him fearfully.

Vegeta rose from his table.

"Excellent." he said wit a grin.

The man shot him an offended glance.


	4. Dad's Got A Duty

**CHAPTER 4 - Dad's Got A Duty**

Bulma's POV

o - o - o

"Shit." Bulma muttered, when the screwdriver slipped through her fingers and fell to the ground. For the fifth time this evening, she had to pause her intense working and pick the tool up. Bulma opened a drawer and took a whole hanfdul of screwdrivers, throwing them hard on the table. She was planning to work at least four hours today on her newest project - an improved version of a capsule, smaller in size and faster than the one her father had invented. Bulma was eager to prove than she will open up the company to new horizons, expand it and make it more profitable than ever before.

However, it seemed that today was not going to be productive. Bulma stared at the fresh-made drawing, barely a sketch, drumming the screwdriver to the table. She couldn't stop thinking about Vegeta.

_If he gets himself into trouble again, I'll kill him._

She remembered his half-coherent rambling the other day, when he returned - confused, wounded and - even though he would never admit it - scared. Bulma could understand that. There weren't many creatures outside of Earth who had the power to harm the prince. But to think that someone _terrestrial_ could be capable to disarm and even subjugate him...

Bulma shuddered. She knew her mate better than he gave her credit for. She was aware of his past failures, his nightmares, his inner fight, harsher than any battle with a visible enemy. She watched as slowly, ever so slowly, a change took root in Vegeta's mind and heart. He was not the same man anymore, but his pride and morals wouldn't let him accept this change. If a day comes when he finally reconciles with himself, forgets his torturous ambitions and pushes his past away, this will not happen soon. Bulma hoped that time, the unquestionably strongest force in the universe, will set the prince at peace.

What had happened in past few days, however, changed everything. Vegeta was, in one way, more fragile than all her friends thought, impressed and intimidated by his strength and attitude. Bulma didn't know how many more defeats it would take to break him down, but_ this one_ might result in his death and the race's ferocious wrath, unleashed on their heads. Once again Vegeta's pride would doom them all, just as it had happened with Cell. Bulma was not going to let the history repeat itself. She will put an end to this.

Bulma picked up her cell phone and chose a number, programmed in the speed dial. The connection appeared after only two beeps.

"Hi, Chi-Chi. Is Gohan at home?"

o - o - o

Bulma peered down through the window of her jet plane. Chi-Chi was waving her arms and shouting vigorously, but the engine was too loud for Bulma to hear. She flew closer to the ground. A laugh burst out of her lips, as she saw Chi-Chi practically bouncing up and down. What was up with her?

Bulma set the plane on the ground with skillful precision and jumped out. She took off her vintage pilot goggles, mischievous smile shining on her lips. It washed off as she saw Chi-Chi's enraged expression.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" Bulma blinked, confused.

"You just landed your stupid plane on my herb bed!"

Bulma glanced at her favorite vehicle, resting on what she'd thought to be a patch of weeds. She bit her lip, trying to suppress a chuckle. Well, she certainly had many things going on her mind lately, so this little lapse was excusable. However, her friend had the reputation of being able to intimidate even a full-blooded Saiyan to near death. Vegeta had always referred to her as a "harpy". Rude as it was, the nickname suited her.

"I'm sorry, Chi-Chi." Bulma murmured. "Um… Where can I find Gohan?"

"He's studying. This can wait. How about a cup of tea first? I just made some." Chi-Chi smiled, her vexation gone in mere seconds.

"I'll be short. I… um… I'd just like to tell him about an invention of mine that might help him with algebra."

o - o - o

As Bulma walked up old, creaky stairs, leading to the second floor where Gohan's room was, she couldn't be oblivious to how much Goku's death had affected this place. It seemed too empty without him. Bulma looked at the family portrait, hanging on the wall. The picture was taken right after Gohan's birth. Goku, looking proud and a bit confused, but jolly as ever, his arm around his wife's waist. Chi-Chi, gleaming with joy, not a wrinkle on her bright face, gently cradling a baby in her arms. Bulma smiled at Gohan's innocent expression. So much like his father. He already had a tail, furry little thing, which he was cuddling like a pillow or a favorite toy. Suddenly Bulma felt a sting of envy. She, Trunks and Vegeta had never been a real family, not like this.

Bulma shook these thoughts away and reached the top of the stairs. Gohan's room was right in front of her. She held her breath and knocked gently, not wanting to startle the boy. However, there was no answer.

Bulma opened the door and peered in. The room was empty. Curtains were fluttering at the breeze from an open window. Bulma smiled.

She bent over the sill and soon spotted Gohan's small figure at the back of the garden, sparring with an invisible enemy.

"Hey, Gohan!"

He froze in spot. Bulma laughed at his guilty expression, which meant that he was caught doing what he was not supposed to do. She waved a finger to him, and backed up quickly, as Gohan glided towards the window faster than her eyes could follow.

"Don't be so scared, I'm not going to tell your mom. I'd just like to have a word with you."

Gohan nodded, looking surprised. He and Bulma had grown close, bound by their adventures on Namek, but recent years had distanced them again. Bulma was now a mother and the head of her father's company, and there was little trace of that vain, spoiled girl she had once been.

Gohan had also matured. Bulma studied his face. He was much too serious for a kid of his age. Goku's son looked glorious in his Super Saiyan aura. His teal eyes bore into Bulma's with intensity that almost made her cringe. Bulma realized that he was still haunted by guilt. He'd been blaming himself for not killing Cell when there was an opportune moment. His delay resulted in his father's death. Or so Gohan was telling himself.

Bulma swallowed hard.

"Why aren't you studying?" she asked gently. "Haven't you told everyone you want to become a scholar?"

Gohan lowered his eyes.

"Yes, but… I need to train too. In case another enemy attacks Earth."

"You want to be like your dad, don't you?" Bulma smiled. "I know he is proud of you."

Gohan blinked, trying to hold tears back. Bulma looked away, pretending to read through the titles of the books in his enormous shelf, to give him some privacy. When she turned to the boy again, his eyes were dry. Dry and determined.

"I doubt that I will ever equal him." he said quietly. "I'd better stick to studies. I just want to keep fit, that's all. Promise you won't tell mom?"

"Of course I won't, silly." Bulma smiled. Her lips froze, when she realized the true reason behind Gohan's words. Training was one of the ways to ease his guilt and to show respect to his father, who, he knew, would want him to train no matter what.

The silence was suddenly bittersweet.

"So… What did you want to talk about, Bulma?" Gohan asked.

Bulma forced her mind out of reverie, which haunted her constantly these days, and remembered the purpose of her trip. She didn't want to burden the boy, but there was no other option. He was her only hope.

"Well.. It's a good thing that you decided to keep training, Gohan. We might soon need your strength."

o - o - o

Bulma sighed with relief, when she saw that Gohan was not a bit scared, only sceptical.

"It doesn't sound very intimidating. If they are only humans…"

"But look what they did to Vegeta!" Bulma folded her arms. "This is serious, Gohan. Those people don't fight like you do. They rely on some strange force."

"You still haven't explained what this force is." Gohan knitted his eyebrows. "It must be some kind of a trick, just like Mister Satan says."

"Don't mention that clown." Bulma muttered. "He also said that your _ki _power was a trick too, remember?"

"Yeah, but…" Gohan bit his lip. "Okay, you have a point. So this force is like a _ki, _right? But more powerful, and released through those sticks."

"Wands." Bulma corrected. "You are right."

"But then, how can we help Vegeta?"

"First, we have to find out more about this race. To get our hands on as much information as possible and expose their flaws and weaknesses." Bulma held out a finger, feeling in her element. "Now, what's a very important rule your dad taught you?"

"_Know your enemy as you know yourself, and you will never loose." _Gohan recited, his eyes now shining, eager for action. Bulma winked at him.

"Precisely." she rose from the chair and glanced at her watch. "Looks like a perfect time for a visit. " she smiled. "Do you want to come along?"

"Where?" Gohan looked confused.

"To Dende's Lookout, of course!"

He bit his lip, torn by indecision.

"I can't… If mom finds out, I will be grounded for a year."

Bulma put a hand on his shoulder.

"I am taking all the blame, deal?" she smiled. "Besides, I think Piccolo might be there too." Gohan's face lit up. It must have been quite a while that he last saw the Namekian, who was his first mentor and friend.

"Deal!"

"All right, then. My jet plane is standing on… um… the field of herbs. Could you carry me out through the window?"

o - o - o

"Just a little more." Gohan said. "Their _ki _is very close now. I can sense Piccolo too!" he shouted.

Bulma stared at a thin, ancient tower, carved with ornaments.

"I still can't believe that Goku cllimbed the whole way up, when he was a child." she admitted.

Gohan grinned.

"Even Yajirobe once did." he informed her.

Bulma's jaw fell.

"Impossible!" Bulma shook her head. She'd always thought that lazy bastard was a disgrace to all the martial arts itself. Cutting off Vegeta's tail was probably the only least bit heroic deed he could take credit for. Given the fact that the prince had long forged an alliance with the Z fighters and was now on the other side of the barricades, this made her dislike Yajirobe even more.

Suddenly, an edge of the platform appeared in her vision, balanced on a thin column, leading from Korin's Tower. The roof of the temple basked in bright sunlight, casting a minute shadow somewhere far away from heavenly hights.

"We're there!"

Bulma landed the plane on white tiles and killed the engine. Gohan hopped out first, eager to meet Piccolo. Bulma noticed that he was wearing the same combat uniform as his mentor.

The trio - two Namekians and Mr. Popo - soon showed up.

"Piccolo!" Gohan yelled, nearly bumping into his legs. The Namekian tousled his hair and gave his pupil an indulgent smile he saved only for him.

Bulma left them to enjoy their reunion and turned to Dende. He had changed little since those days on Namek. The boy was still quite short and skinny, looking no older than fifteen, judging by human age.

"Is there something I can help with?" he asked nervously.

"Well, that's what I came for."

Bulma retold them the story, trying to make it as identical to the one she heard from Vegeta as possible. The trio listened intently.

Just as she had expected, Piccolo was the one to take it most seriously. He stared down to Earth, letting the wind claw at his white cape. He had not uttered a word yet.

Bulma looked at Dende, waiting for a reaction.

To her dismay, she saw only puzzlement and carefully masked disbelief.

"Well?" she asked, folding her arms impatiently.

Dende took a deep breath. He glanced at Mr. Popo before answering.

"I'm sorry to be of no use." he started cautiously. "But I have not been in god's position long enough to have exclusive knowledge of Earth's inhabitants and their secrets. It was an unfortunate timing for Vegeta to get into this trouble. I… I apologize." he added, his eyes glued to the ground in shame.

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Dende." Piccolo spoke for the first time since hearing the story, his sonorous voice making them flinch. "You've been doing an amazing job as the god and guardian of Earth. It is you we have to thank for the revival of Shenron and the Dragon balls. Wisdom comes with age. It's nothing you have to worry about now."

Dende nodded, swallowing hard.

"If only Goku was still alive…" Bulma sighed. _He always comes up with a solution._

She walked over to her jet plane.

"I guess it's time for you to leave as well, Gohan. Chi-Chi will be mad at both of us."

"I'll stay a little longer. And I don't want you to take the blame, Bulma. I will explain myself. You have enough problems now anyway."

Bulma felt her heart warm up at Gohan's selflessness. She turned away, before he could notice a glint of pity in her eyes, and crawled up on the pilot's seat.

o - o - o

"Sweetie, I haven't seen our dear Vegeta lately. Do you know where he might be?"

Bulma played with the food on her plate. The egg rolls, which her mother had polished to perfection through multiple editing of the recipe, were suddenly unappetizing.

"Probably still in the gravity room, training." she answered. Confronting her air-headed mom with the truth was usually not an option. She would either fail to absorb the true gravity of the problem, or drive everyone up the walls with exaggerated concern. Bulma loved her mother dearly, but had to admit that she belonged to another world - pinkish one, filled with roses, tea parties and blonde-haired dolls, with whom she would chatter incessantly about trivial things.

"But, darling, it's dinner time already. He doesn't usually skip meals."

Bulma rolled her eyes.

"He's done it plenty of times before, mom. We'll just leave him leftovers, as usual."

Bulma took a bite, though it took effort to swallow. Her dad started talking about a science exhibition he went to yesterday. Normally this topic would capture her attention immediately, but not today. Bulma started counting the floor tiles absentmindedly, trying to tune him out.

_Bulma?_

She dropped her knife. Impossible…

"Bulma, sweetie, are you alright?"

"I… I'm feeling sick." Bulma muttered. She jumped from the chair and run to her room as fast as possible.

_It was his voice!_

_Of course it was, Bulma. That's me._

"Goku!" she screamed, trying to catch her breath. She slammed the door to her bedroom and fell on her bed, listening intently.

_I'm talking to you through King Kai._

"I should have guessed it." Bulma smiled. "But… It cannot be a coincidence that-"

_Of course it isn't. Now listen to me, Bulma. A few hours ago, I sensed Gohan's concern. He was troubled about something._

"I bet he was. In that case, I take it that you already know what's happening here on Earth?"

_Yeah. That's why I asked King Kai about all this. He does seem to know something about that race Vegeta has encountered._

_Not just "does seem" and not "something". Stop insulting me, Songoku._ She heard King Kai's grumpy voice. _Hello there, girl. Ask me, what you wish to know._

"Everything." Bulma told him.

_I hope you have a few hours free, then, because it's not a story to be cut and summarized. Now, where do I start?_

o - o - o

"Unbelievable."

_Believe it or not. Your choice._ King Kai was getting yet grumpier.

"No, you misunderstood. Of course I believe you, King Kai." Bulma sighed. "It's just that… How the hell have we lived our whole lives not knowing about such a phenomenon?"

_This is no more phenomenal than the existence of Saiyans, Namekians, Kais and other beings. Don't be so self-centered._

She heard Goku laughing.

"I'm not self-centered!" Bulma shouted, slamming her fist to the pillow.

_Pay him no mind. King Kai likes to joke around a lot._

"Don't I know it." she muttered.

_You missed the most important question._ Goku said. _How much danger are we in?_

"Do you really have to ask, Goku?" Bulma jumped off her bed. "They defeated him, chained him, drugged him and-"

"_Easy there, girl. You are overdramatizing it."_

Bulma could not believe her ears. Overdramatizing? It had better be just another one of his bad jokes…

_No joke is bad. There are only those with the ability to understand them, and those who lack this ability. You must fall under the second category._

Before Bulma could commit an unforgivable blasphemy by calling the Kai a "moronic prick", he continued.

"_The only one who's in danger here is your ignorant Saiyan of a mate. Our world and theirs exist separately and do not usually interfere with one another, thanks to the International Statute Of Wizarding Secrecy. That's why Vegeta shouldn't have just gone to them and threatened to blast them all to the next dimension. The wizards and witches he was dealing with were those belonging to the Dark Side, or whatever you prefer to call it. Bad guys. The evil. Now that he did it… Well, here comes the good news - the danger is all on his head, unless he tells them about you._

_Which he wouldn't_. Goku interrupted. _Vegeta is too tough to let anyone squeeze out secrets from him._

_That's right. To sum it up - you're safe. He isn't. The end._

Bulma stared at the wall. Her eyes narrowed.

"Thank you for information, King Kai. Now that I know who we are dealing with, I feel much better. I'm leaving tomorrow."

She could all but see their stunned faces.

_But… What could you possibly do?_ Goku asked.

_That's insanity! You are even more insane than this guy here, who had never listened to my wise warnings._

"I am the only person he might listen to. I'm just going to get some sense into him."

_Get some sense into Vegeta? Good luck._ Goku only used sarcasm on rare occasions. It was never a good sign.

Bulma shoved this thought away.

"It was nice to talk, Goku. I hope you're enjoying your afterlife." she smiled.

_You have no idea._

o - o - o

Bulma hugged her pillow tighter. She laid still for a few minutes with her eyes shut, until she sighed and grabbed a pill of sleeping medication, the second one she took this evening. She swallowed it without water and fell hard on her bed. Why was it that sleep would always run away from her, when it was most needed?

With a lack of mind's rest, it was harder than usual to keep the whirl of thoughts at bay. This time, though, instead of just giving random bites, the thoughts knitted into an organized web, a pattern with a shape of suspicion.

_Vegeta._

There were moments, when Bulma thought that she knew him inside out. This one of those moments. Bulma sat in her bed, now pushing the drowsiness away. Vegeta was one of the most complicated people she had ever met. Well, to be honest - absolutely the most. He was many things - brusque, arrogant, proud (unlike many others, Bulma was able to tell the difference between those two qualities), cunning, resolute… loyal. It seemed, though, as if his every trait had its contrary, thus inducing a never-ending inner fight. Much like when the tension between negative and positive particles in a cloud becomes too high and creates a powerful charge - a lightening bolt. This was what intrigued Bulma in the first place, and made her fall for the prince.

However, when it came to fighting, Vegeta was a tactician, as often sly as fiercely brave. When his strength was ridiculously small, compared to that of his opponent, he would retreat and work hard to restore the balance of power. Only then would he come back to attack again. What he was doing now, was completely out of his character.

And would Vegeta really put his life in danger just to protect the planet? It was too unlikely. He had only fought for sheer pleasure and thrill of combat so far. Three years of peace before the coming of androids could not have made him that attached to Earth.

Was there some other reason she didn't know of?

Suddenly, Bulma was awoken from her profound contemplations by the sound of Trunks's crying. She hurried to the crib bar and gently picked up her son, before his wailing could disturb the sleep of her parents.

"Hush, my dear, hush." she cooed, rocking him in her arms. A few seconds later, his tearless cries faded away, replaced by content crowing.

Bulma smiled. All Vegeta's scolding and saying that Saiyan men don't cry had probably worked.

"You're going to be just like your dad." she told him. "Just an improved version - no brooding, dislike of cuddle or fear of showing emotion. I'll take care of this."

Trunks's huge blue eyes slid to the side of bed where Vegeta usually slept.

Bulma sighed.

"Don't worry, dad will be home soon. He's on a duty now."


	5. Immortality Would Break You

**CHAPTER 5 - Immortality Would Break You**

Vegeta's POV

o - o - o

"If you can't make this shitty piece of metal slug go faster, this will be your last little night trip."

There was no response from the driver. He didn't even cringe.

"Must I repeat myself?" Vegeta's voice decreased to a murmur. Cold, deadly, much more terrifying than a yell of fury.

"Don't speak to Ernie. He's deaf with one ear and hardly uses the other one. Can't hear you."

A vein shot out on Vegeta's forehead.

"Is he? Well, tell you what - I am not used to humans ignoring me. Usually, they don't even get the chance. I blast them before they can answer my questions. Yes, I am _that_ impatient."

The look on the conductor's face gave him one hell of wicked pleasure. The prince grinned. He wasn't actually in such vexed mood. Old habits die hard; scaring the shit out of silly humans was more of a sport to him.

The conductor, whose name was Nick, shrugged his shoulders and tried to discretely wipe away sweat from his forehead.

"You know," he muttered. "You are our first passenger ever to have complained about us being slow. What kind of a psycho are you?"

o - o - o

Vegeta recalled the scene half an hour ago, when he first saw the Knight Bus. Having just arrived to London again, he had been trying to access the Diagon Alley, but even though he remembered the combination perfectly, the passage wouldn't open for him; the prince realized that he would never enter the alley without a wand. He was crossing the street, with no certain plan yet, when he heard an odd, screeching sound. It was then that the bus appeared, a huge, red vehicle with flashing lights.

It seemed completely out of range with the rest of the traffic, and yet attracted no attention from other drivers. Vegeta saw a few lamp posts jump out of the bus's way. Were humans really so dull, or only at nighttime?

He was at the moment right in the middle of the street. A silly, but amusing idea crossed his mind and the prince froze in spot, completely serene, waiting for the bus to approach.

Just as Vegeta had hoped, the vehicle didn't hit him. It stopped inches away from his feet, so abruptly that sparks shot from the tires and the bus nearly reared up like a horse. The prince stifled a laugh.

After a second, a skinny young man opened the doors. Vegeta's smug expression seemed to offend him.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the street? Look what you've done." he gestured towards the window, which was covered in what looked like hot chocolate.

"What is this thing that you are driving?"

The man gasped, surprised.

"Me, driving? No, I would never touch the wheel of this devil. Ernie is driving. I'm the conductor, Nick. Anyway, welcome to the Knight Bus, sir!"

"Night Bus?" Vegeta smirked. "Oh, I would never have guessed."

"No, no! The Knight Bus. Like... like a knight on horseback."

Vegeta fought an urge to slap himself on the face. Was this world a fucking Disneyland? What's next, then? "Dragonforce Airlines"?

The conductor cleared his throat.

"So… hm… do you need a ride?"

Without thinking, Vegeta got in.

o - o - o

"Which place do you need to go again?"

Vegeta felt uncomfortable.

"I don't have any… particular destination in mind."

Conductor Nick stared at him, as every time when Vegeta said of did something he thought weird. Vegeta tried to block the mental image of laying a fist on his face.

Nick fidgeted with his glasses.

"If you don't know where you're going, how am I supposed to know how much you need to pay? When you get the right money, that is."

He had rejected the coins Vegeta offered to him, saying that it was some strange Muggle currency and that they don't use it here. It was obvious by this point that Vegeta was not a wizard. He stared deadly at the the conductor, daring him to try to throw him out. The boy proved to be smarter than he looked and settled for merely scribbling his address on a piece of paper, asking to pay whenever he can. Vegeta rolled his eyes at the boy's naivety and took the paper, planning to throw it out in the nearest trash bin.

However, from then on the conductor started treating him like a showpiece in the museum or a scientific experiment. Vegeta bore it in silence, knowing that there wasn't much he could do about it.

"I'll just get out wherever I want." he muttered.

Nick snorted.

"It must be like a trip tour for you, then?"

"Yes, in fact, it is." the prince snarled, no longer able to stand the conductor's annoying chatter. "Now do you think you could manage staying at least five minutes with your mouth shut? I'd appreciate."

Nick flinched when understanding finally hit him.

"Y-yes, sir."

o - o - o

The ride dragged on. Vegeta had no idea where the bus was taking him, but that didn't matter. Sometimes one needed to get lost to find something one was searching for. This was an old Saiyan adage, with which Raditz used to respond to Vegeta's impatient crabbing on their space voyages, some distant planet their destination. As the prince grew older, he started to appreciate Saiyan wisdom a bit more. There must be truth in that saying.

Vegata's eyes pierced the darkness with ease, until the sky begin to shed it's blackness, each new shade a little bit lighter, a bit more blue.

They had passed tens of small towns already, but none looked promising enough to take his leave. When they reached the end of civilization completely, the conductor pushed a blue button on the side panel, and the bus rose to air. Having lived in the West city, which was called an urban utopia, Vegeta was hardly impressed. However, this did increase the speed two or three times. The prince had no more reason to be impatient.

For three hours they had been flying through the moors and mountains of some northern land, a green desert with not so much as a village. Vegeta couldn't help but admire it's harshness. The scenery seemed to have a personality of its own, and it matched the prince's perfectly with those rough edges of mountains, scarce, icy lakes and uninhabited valleys. For the first time in years, Vegeta admired something just for sheer beauty and did not blame that on softness of his heart.

He was well aware of Nick watching him, with proper fear and respect in his eyes, just as the prince liked it. The boy had been able to keep silent after all, but it was clear that he grew more and more anxious with each passing hour. Vegeta ignored him. He never left the side of a window.

Suddenly, the scenic continuity was disturbed by some distant object. Vegeta's sharp eyes soon defined the contours well enough to recognize a huge castle. He tensed.

"What's there?" he turned to the conductor.

Nick looked at him, confused.

"Where?"

Vegeta remembered that human's vision was much weaker and waited for about half an hour for the castle to get closer. Soon the boy saw it too.

"We're approaching Hogwarts, the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Stare while you can, fellow." he chuckled. "You're not going to see it so… Wait. You're a Muggle." his face grew pale. "You shouldn't be able to see-"

"Of course I am." Vegeta scowled at him, confused. "How can anyone not notice such big a fortress? I'm glad that my journey will end soon, and so should you be, boy. If you know what I mean." he grinned at the conductor's horrified expression.

"Now, where is the nearest stop?"

o - o - o

"Hogsmeade." Vegeta muttered, standing in a cold night. Although it was the fall of April, the air was chilly. "Who the hell could think of such a name?"

He shook his head and headed towards the gates of the town. When asked, the conductor boy announced proudly that this was the only all-wizard village in Britain. Vegeta couldn't care less, however, there was the advantage of the town being so close to the school.

The prince strolled aimlessly through the main street, stocked with pretty old houses, most of which were shops or inns. Vegeta passed them without a second glance. He gritted his teeth. What was the use of all this? He didn't even know where to start searching. It was worse than trying to find a needle in a haystack, a diamond in a hog's wallow.

Suddenly, the word play caught Vegeta's attention. He was not the man to write anything off as a coincidence. He glanced up above pointed roofs.

The castle looked even more majestic from a closer view. The prince could tell immediately that it was incredibly old. It seemed to grow right out of the rocks it was build on. Even from afar he could sense an aura of wonder seeping from its walls. Vegeta felt a shiver at his spine. Deep purple remains of the night fell on the castle, intensifying the feeling. Suddenly, the prince wished that morning would never come.

Not merely a smirk, but genuine smile pulled at his lips. He would storm Hogwarts in the morning. Battles were always best to begin at dawn. He would kill or romp through all the guardians, no matter how many, force through whatever defenses were set to protect those walls, sneak in and taste for himself all this magic and wonder, and find his answer, reveal the secret he so desires.

o - o - o

It was not long before dawn when Vegeta started looking for a place to rest. A couple hours of nap would do him plenty of good.

He roamed the village and soon got away from the central street and its many side-alleys, filled with petty tourist attractions. The prince didn't notice at once that the path he had taken was leading uphill. Vegeta looked up and a different sight appeared in his field of vision. Something that, he thought, didn't quite fit into this picturesque prospect.

A lone, abandoned hut at the top of the hill. Something about it made it look quite uninviting. Perhaps it was the unnaturally spindly structure, or slanted facade. Vegeta felt curiosity nibbling at his mind. The place seemed exactly the sort which humans would give a mile radius around. What horrors dwelled there, then? Imaginary ghosts, invented by prejudice and fairytales gone dark, or something even he, a Saiyan, should be afraid of?

He looked around. The village was sleeping. Surely the humans would not live around here if it was dangerous. Vegeta snorted and cursed his indecision. This hut will serve him for a perfect sleeping place, and no ghosts, if there were any, could harm him.

He flew closer to the hut and searched for an entrance. However, the weird building had no doors, not even windows. Vegeta eyed it with amusement. If it weren't for its shape and the clearly visible foundations, which held the building affixed to the ground, it could easily be mistaken for an oversized, unwieldy model of a spacepod. Such comparison made the hut appear much cozier.

The prince tore off a few planks in the roof, careful not to make the roof structure fall apart. He slid in. Gentle breeze outside was not enough to make the roof creak. Vegeta couldn't decide if dead silence was comforting or rather disturbing.

He looked around. Judging from how tall the hut was and little space of the room he was in, there had to be at least three floors. Vegeta could only stand hunched even with his short height. He knelt and removed a few tiles from the floor to get to the lower lever.

It was only then that realized that he was not alone.

Vegeta froze. How could he be tricked like this? His hearing was flawless and far superior to humans'.

"Magic." he spit out as a swear. They must have put a spell into those walls to make them soundproof.

The prince slid silently through the fresh made hole and immediately caught a much clearer sound. There were three or four people one floor below him. He listened intently, until he could distinguish separate words from rumble of someone's deep voice.

"… going away for days, has anyone seen him last week at all?"

"This is not our business, Macnair." another voice of a more mellow timbre joined. "Anyway, I've got a feeling that f I knew, I wish I didn't."

The others laughed half-heartedly. Their voices soon faded out, as if the question they were handling was too dangerous, even forbidden to discuss.

"I hate this." the first voice murmured. "Not knowing what's happening. What's the use of keeping us in the dark? He might be invincible, but he still needs help from the outside. What are we for, then? Just to drag along behind him and roll out the red carpet for him?"

"Shut your mouth, Macnair!" the second voice hissed, sounding horrorstruck. "What if… he has a way to li-"

"Shut up yourself, then." another man interrupted. He might be right, Vegeta thought to himself. However, if he heard the man whispering, so would the spying device have, if it was there in the first place.

He looked around anxiously, scanning every spot on the wall. He had kept quiet all this time, hadn't he?

And then the fourth person spoke up.

"You pathetic worm."

Vegeta jolted at the voice. A snake-like hiss. Now he could picture the lips those words came from.

He recognized the squeaky laughter that followed.

"My Lord doesn't need an army to stand behind him. Did you really think that he ever needed your help? Did you?"

Vegeta heard two men try to calm her down, but the witch was untamable. He clenched the beam tight. The prince could feel wild energy surrounding her, just like when she fought him. Not the _ki _power, but something else… Was this the power of magic that he sensed?

The wood began to crumble, but he didn't notice.

"As blasphemous as your theory is, Macnair, you hit the point straight. You are nothing but puppet dolls for him. Haven't you noticed how every time you say or ask something stupid in his presence, my Lord cruciates you?" there came a sound of a whip, followed by a cry of pain. "You think he punishes you. Oh no." the witch laughed. "It is only his way to relieve distress and vexation. Much like punching bags."

The witch could have taken the house down at seconds, but there was no sign of approaching inferno. Vegeta gritted his teeth, fighting that strange fright that came over him. How could this madwoman make him feel so… so insecure?

Suddenly, his fingers shot through the wood right into the core of the beam. Upon hearing a loud crack, Vegeta flinched, woken from his musings. Suddenly, a cracking started above his head, the sound of fracturing tiles. The roof was going to fall.

Vegeta jumped to the side, but the space was too small. He held out his hands, ready to catch the mass of wooden structures. However, the floor could not withstand the weight.

The whole floor caved in.

Still airborne, Vegeta kicked the remains of the roof, sending them crashing into the corner, and made a graceful double-somersault. He landed on a round table.

Four sets of incredulous eyes embed into him. The prince flashed a languorous smirk, skillfully catching the right angle to let the ray of light from a chandelier put a glint on his teeth. He couldn't resist showing off for an audience.

"I find myself amazed, how such minute and cramped shack has room for four bigheaded pricks. You should comb your mat of hair." he added, looking at the woman. "Surely your comrades won't thank you when infested with fleas."

"Why, you…" sparks flew out from the end of her wand, as she squeezed it until her knuckles went white. One of the men leaned closer to her (Vegeta approved of such valorous action) and whispered a plea. The witch snorted, but shifted slightly into a less-threatening position. She didn't lower her wand, though.

"Four afraid of one?" Vegeta barked a laugh. "I'm starting to feel sympathy to your so-called Lord… To be surrounded by cowards - what can be more unfortunate for a vigorous leader?"

"You sure talk a lot." one man commented dryly. His voice was void of threat. "If only we had the Restraining elixir… He blew our military store to ashes." he turned to the others. "Cunning bastard, eh? A perfect example of how one shouldn't judge another from the outside."

The prince clenched his fists. He had taken more insults in the past week than his unyeialding ego could digest.

"If only you knew that what you saw on the military base only a _fucking nano-sized drop_ of my whole power. " he wondered subconsciously when he had picked this one up. "Better run away, while you still can." Vegeta powered up to Ascended Super Saiyan without any conventional formalities. Better to get this over with right now.

"DAMN YOU!" he yelled, storming them with his most powerful attacks. The hut was down in seconds. Vegeta's faint hope that the scums will roast in flames or be crushed by fallen structures died as he saw the light beam out of their wands, magically clearing the rubble so that it wouldn't get in the way.

This fight didn't drag on. Vegeta was expertly trained by his father and later by Frieza, not only as a fighter but a strategist as well. His brain had developed an ability to function on more that one level. That was why the prince could easily parry the opponents' attacks, strike himself, ponder different strategies, their likelihood and efficiency and come up with a back-up plan, all at the same time.

It didn't take a genius to realize that the odds were stacked if not equally, then in the enemy's favor. Their wands posed little serious danger as long as the prince didn't let his guard down, but he could not do much damage either.

Vegeta gritted his teeth. How he had missed the times when the fight meant having a fair one-to-one duel, the feel of his fists clashing into the opponent's abdomen, and of enormous muscle force running through his hands, when he wrestled the monster. This was what fighting was supposed to be. Not this pathetic circus.

Two options flashed inside his head, battling before the eye of his rock-hard moral codex.

_True warrior never flees from the battlefield. True Saiyan fights to the death. The Prince of Saiyans never gives up, never accepts defeat. When fallen in battle, he gets ups and fights again with whatever breath he has left._

Everything about fighting was clear and neatly ordered in Vegeta's head. Now, however, the chain was breaking.

Can a warrior flee if a certain fight brings no pleasure for him? Can he flee, if the fight is not important and not even meant to happen in the first place? If it is a complete waste of time and energy?

Vegeta shot the Final Flash again, only to duck when it ricocheted from the woman's wand. His ears rang from her incessant squealing. It was the first time when fighting was a torment for him, rather than thrill.

He spat the bitterness out of his mouth and formed a ki shield, relaxing instantly when his mind and body became impervious to the outside attacks. He shot to the air and fled, yes, fled, no longer caring for the word. And he felt as if being stripped off something. Too light, uncomfortably hollow.

Vegeta felt genuine fear building up in the core of his heart. This was a threshold he'd thought he would never cross. If he was able to break through it, what else was he capable of?

"We will get you soon, you bastard!"

o - o - o

Vegeta leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. His chest felt heavy, and his breathing labored. Physical strain had nothing to do with this.

He eyed the street, which now looked nothing more than a meaningless labyrinth to him. There was no treasure hidden in its centre. The treasure was in the castle, or so he suspected. But the Death Eaters once again had thwarted his schemes. With them lurking around at any corner, it would be hard to try to invade Hogwarts. Hard, and… detrimental.

And then he heard cussing.

"Speaking of the devil…" the prince muttered. He estimated the enemy's position, relying solely on his hearing. They had to be but a couple of streets away.

Vegeta resisted temptation to fly. The bastards were now quite well acquainted with his techniques and abilities and surely had summoned the flying devices of their own. Brooms…. The prince snorted. Ridiculous beyond belief.

He ran along the street, making no sound on cobbled pavement. His chances seemed fairly high. Unless…

Vegeta slowed down for a moment, listening intently. There was no echoing sound of his followers. It was only their voices that he could hear, and they were approaching fast. This could only mean one thing.

The Saiyan cursed under his breath, taking off again. Thankfully, he was still faster then them. He dived expertly through narrow streets, searching desperately for the way to get out of the town, so that he shoot into the sky with supreme speed, and no one in this world would be able to chase him.

He cut the corner by simply jumping over a low building.

"There he is! Hurry!"

Vegeta quickly rolled down off the roof, landing on one knee. He gritted his teeth. Who would have thought that they would catch up with him so fast?

He ran forward, aiming for a gap between two houses, suggesting a passage. He needed to misguide them somehow…

The prince was stopped by a tall brick wall, hovering above him. Dead end.

And the voices came closer, like ferocious repliles, smelling his frustration. For the first time, Vegeta felt doubt creeping into his chest. He came to this world as conqueror, with a purpose to terminate a possible threat. It had never crossed his mind that he might become the one to be hunted.

There were times when the prince would not have considered defeat. It wouldn't appear in his head as a possible option, in need of a back-up plan. Yes, that was how it once was. Before Cell, before Frieza…. before Kakarot.

He imagined the witch's mad eyes shining in the dark, and the prospect of death suddenly felt real.

Vegeta snapped his head back. His body itself shifted to offensive position, physically unable to give up when yet uninjured and capable. He waited calmly for the Death Eaters to find him, searching for a way to escape at the same time.

The enemies were now just behind a few corners.

Suddenly, Vegeta saw a motion behind a window of one random house. A flickering of a candle behind a curtain. A faint puff, and the flame disappeared, transforming into a cloud of smoke.

Vegeta's mind nearly exploded with a new hope.

He jumped on the wall, holding himself up on the water tube, tore the window off its hinges and got in. He broke the frame in half, so that he could bring it inside. A broken window, lying on the ground, would surely betray him.

The prince turned his back to the hole in the wall to face a tall, white-bearded wizard.

"Fix it. Now."

Hearing hidden panic in his voice, the wizard obeyed immediately. He murmured a spell, and broken pieces became one again. Two sides of wooden frames sticked together, and the window, now whole, went to its old spot.

When finished, the wizard turned back to Vegeta again, the end of his wand finding a new target. They stared at one another for a long moment.

The prince did not have it in himself to beg for help. Instead, he detached his battle armor and let it fall on the ground, as a sign of meaning no harm.

Finally, the man lowered his wand.

"Blast it. Filthy barbarians just walking in at night, climbing up walls like monkeys, breaking windows like they were chocolate bars… The world _is_ going to end."

With these word, he climbed downstairs, leaving Vegeta stare at his back, utterly confused.

A few seconds passed, and the prince nearly jumped, when a husky yell came from below the stairs.

"Well, are you coming down or not?"

o - o - o

The wizard stared at him with an expression of mixed despair and disbelief.

"What do you mean, you need more?"

"I mean precisely what it sounds like." Vegeta snapped, grabbing another loaf of fresh bread. He could have demanded for something more than this "peasant's meal", as he called it, but that would have taken some time, and the prince was famished.

He consumed the loaf in rapid, yet small bites, still minding the manners. He was not a boor like Kakarot.

The wizard sighed angrily.

"These are times of war, for Merlin's sake. Do you want to rob me of my last bread?"

Vegeta smirked.

"You do not strike me as poor, old man. What are all these keys on the wall for, then, if not cellars replete with food?"

"For your information, I own an inn." the wizard grumbled. "If you could see a bit further than your nose, you'd notice a counter."

The prince didn't bother looking. He stared with ruthless eyes at the man, sitting in front of him, not moving an inch.

"I'll hunt an elk or a hog for you." he promised. "But now, show me the way to your food supplies."

"You overstep yourself, young man." the wizard said, sounding tired. "Yet I find you curious. No one has ever dared to talk to me in this manner. Who are you?"

Vegeta stiffened.

"You don't need to know this." he hissed.

"Oh yes, I do." the man leaned in to get a closer look at the Saiyan. Vegeta clenched his fists.

"I don't think you are human. I wonder-"

"Don't even dare to think about me that way!" Vegeta hissed. He jumped off a chair and smashed it to pieces. "I've seen what your kind has done to other races! If you try to _use_ me in any way, I will not take responsibility for my actions."

"Who are you?"

Vegeta realized that the actual question excluded the matter of race. He relaxed a bit.

"I… came to explore this world… this whole magical universe, parallel to ours. I don't know what you call it."

"The Wizarding World."

Vegeta nodded.

The wizard seemed to swallow the lie. He was silent for a few moment.

"Explore…" he snorted. "There is nothing to explore. You've seen it. Our world once was a majestic kingdom. Rich, wonderful, lacking nothing. The Muggles - non-magical people - were not supposed to know about us, but those few who did, they called it the New Avalon. A land of utopia."

"What happened?" the prince asked, suddenly curious.

"You-Know-Who took power." he saw from Vegeta's eyes that no further explanation was needed. He sighed. "This is now nothing more than a morbid circus play. In the end, all the lions are dead."

o - o - o

Vegeta never actually asked the wizard to let him stay, nor had the man ever given him the permission or tried to order him out. It was as if it was an absolutely normal thing to have a strange, probably alien man move in, with no explanation, no rental agreement nor terminal date.

Well, if the wizard didn't seem to care, neither did Vegeta. He decided to make the most of this temporary stay, shamelessly storming the cellars and sampling the wines that piqued his attention. The prince noted that those beverages were far superior in taste and fragrance to the ones Capsule Corporations owned.

The next evening, while eating Vegeta's catch - an enormous wild hog, the wizard finally managed to pry out his true identity and a few tiny bits of biography. He gave out his own name in return. Aberforth Dumbledore. It sounded somewhat familiar…

"My brother." the wizard grumbled, when Vegeta mentioned it. "He was You-Know-Who's oldest and most powerful enemy. Died last year. I don't read newspapers, but I can bet the media is now dragging his name through the mire." he sighed.

Suddenly, he looked up.

"Pardon me, but you've left a bit too much out of your story for me to follow. If you are a prince of an extraterrestrial race, how did you end up here on Earth?"

Vegeta stood up and left without a word. Aberforth chuckled slightly. He was probably getting used to it.

o - o - o

Vegeta stared at setting sun, grieving for one more wasted day. The towers of Hogwarts were visible from every window, taunting him. He still had not come up with a decent plan to invade the castle. His previous shceme was now worthless, if the Death Eaters were still hunting him. The prince toyed with the edges of his gloves; uncertainty was eating him alive. He must put an end to it, and quickly. God only knows how much time he had left.

"You seem particularly attracted to the vista of our village. Is that why you keep gazing out of the window for hours?"

"Of course not." Vegeta snapped, turning away.

Aberforth cocked an eyebrow, not having missed the lack of usual spirit in the Saiyan's voice.

"Well, then something is bothering you quite much. Why don't you spit it out?" he brushed a finger through his beard. "Or am I just too low and unworthy to be confided in… _Your Highness_?"

"This is not a joke, you old fool." Vegeta scowled. "If ever again I hear you saying this in a joking context-"

"…then slow and painful death awaits me. Got it memorized by now."

Vegeta sighed and quickly turned to face the window again, before the wizard could notice amusement pulling at his lips. He had to admit that he actually liked the man. All those small word-fights, which occurred hundred times per day and left him strangely contented rather than vexed. The way Aberforth's grim sarcasm and sane, plain-straight view of the world matched his own. Vegeta realized that this was the only company where he could be completely himself, with all his haughtiness, arrogance and unsociable attitude, and provoke no yelling, cursing or door-slamming, but a mere shrug, grunt and a half-heartedly thrown insult.

Vegeta sighed. He might as well make some use of the man, then.

"What do you know about Death Eaters?"

"I assume that you have had some business with them?"

He gritted his teeth at Aberforth's suddenly curious expression, the one he had on when trying to "solve" Vegeta's past. It made him feel like a showpiece in a museum.

"Or should I rather phrase it - _they_ have had some business with you?"

"You're right. _I've_ had." Vegeta still had his back to him. "Well?"

"I know quite much, but the only thing that would be of use to you, you already know. They are You-Know-Who's most royal and powerful disciples. Of course, not all of them are worth this description, but the majority of this bunch is quite a nuisance to us, the… Oh, I never know how to call it… The good guys, I suppose.

"I didn't know you considered yourself as one. I thought of you as… too practical to choose a loosing side." Vegeta shrugged.

"Well…" Aberforth toyed with his beard, looking uncomfortable. He sighed. "Look, there are things that cannot be viewed this way. Yes, I am practical, witty old cynic. My brother used to call me that too. But still… If you asked me what I fight for, I couldn't answer you. Because I could not explain rationally. You'd probably laugh it off as sentiments, but there are some things that, even though long dead and meaningless in the picture of today's world, still means a lot to me. I can't forget them."

Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise, when he saw Aberforth's shoulders hunch, as if he was suddenly aware of the weight all the years of his life had put him under.

"I don't want to. They made me what I am. They still make me feel alive, while nothing else can."

Vegeta turned his eyes away. He was never comfortable with exposing of feelings, but he found it even harder to stand now. He had no idea why the man had just poured out his heart to him.

Relief washed over him, when Aberforth straightened up and cleared his throat.

"As I said, there is nothing more you need to know about Death Eater. The only advise I can give you - keep away from them, if possible."

"As you have witnessed, I have powers of my own." Vegeta stated dryly. "A bunch of freaks don't frighten me."

"Sure they don't." Aberforth muttered, clearly unconvinced. "What about their leader, then? Ah, I see that this is a different case." he added, staring intently at Vegeta's closed face.

"Have you met him?"

"Yes, once." the prince muttered, wincing at a painful memory.

"Well, there aren't a lot of people who survive meeting him. Consider yourself lucky."

Aberborth sighed.

"There truly is something about him that scares the wits out of me." he admitted. "I remember my brother, Albus, telling about him when he was a teacher at Hogwarts. He mentioned the boy's marvelous talent and abilities, but there was a strange… disapproving tone in his voice. I hadn't noticed it then. Only when he revealed himself in the light of day and began his underground reign, had I remembered it, and then I thought - this monster we had created ourselves. No one else…"

"And the years passed by…" the wizard seemed lost in thoughts, his voice trance-like. Vegeta listened intently. "You probably don't know the story, but there was a night when he should have died. Any witch or wizard would have. But then he returned fourteen years later with a new face."

Vegeta froze.

"He looked so much different. And, funny, thing, he hadn't changed since. Not a bit. As if he was… eternal."

Aberforth turned back to Vegeta to see him staring up to ceiling with unseeing eyes, a fully revealed expression of triumph on his face.

And then finally everything made sense.

o - o - o

"You know." Vegeta gasped. His eyes were shining in half-light, glistening with almost frenzied mania.

Aberforth closed his eyes.

"Fool." he muttered. Vegeta didn't know if it was for him or the wizard himself.

He didn't care anymore. All his searching, all the torment's he had undergone will finally repay.

"So that's what you are after… Eternal life. There have been many fools like you, who came to me asking this. Get out. Search where you want. I don't know anything.

"You're lying!" Vegeta thrusted the old man against the wall, growling teeth-bared. The chandelier above their heads swayed, as the prince's _ki _flared up. The Saiyan's hands coiled around the wizard's long, seared neck.

Aberforth didn't try to remove Vegeta's grasp, nor did he looked afraid. Vegeta sniffed. Does this pitiful race not value life at all? If so, there is no point in threatening. Better to leave him here...

"You have no idea what's this _immortality _that you're striving for. You haven't lived long enough. It's bizarre, though, seeing as life has brought you nothing but suffering so far…" Vegeta stiffened. How on Earth would he know? "… yet still want more of it. Foolish, insatiable youth. Now can you try to imagine, for one moment - if you got a life eternal, what would you do with it? And what would you do when you tire of it?"

Vegeta didn't respond. He was fighting the urge to tighten his grasp and cut the man's flow of air, so that he didn't have to listen to his words. They stung his mind as only truth can sting. Vegeta spat on the floor. He'd had enough of foul words. All his live he'd been haunted by the same voice, confronting him with his own unworthiness and weakness. The prince could feel Aberforth's penetrating blue eyes upon him. The wizard nodded, as if he _knew. _Vegeta let go of his throat and stepped aside, no longer able to bear those crystal daggers. "Be damned." he murmured, all spite in his voice having shrunk under the wizard's glare.

"Do you know why I'm telling you this?" the wizard asked, rubbing his neck. "I could not care less for one more fool about to give up his shitty soul for an "eternal life", thinking that he's going to get an infinite bonus of years to frolic in the playground. However, there is something that makes you different… The other day, you saw the painting on the wall. The portrait of my long-deceased sister Ariana. Well, you remember."

Of course Vegeta remembered. He closed his eyes to relive the memory. The girl's face was too pretty to be painted. This was the first time he witnessed the use of magic not in the means of warfare, but for beauty. Vegeta had never cared for art, yet he was unable to tear his eyes away. The girl had Bulma's eyes, and Bulma had hers. The prince mentally set a blue hue on her hair. Aberforth's sister had the same gentle, yet lively features as his mate. For a brief moment, Vegeta let himself drift away.

"I can see it again." Aberforth stated, his eyes glistening with what the Saiyan thought to be professional curiosity. "My perception skills are not quite as sharp as my brother's, but it must run in my family. Now be all ears and listen well what I have to say. Let it sink through that thick head of yours. So you have a woman, eh? Do you give her flowers? Little chocolate boxes? Sweet kisses under the moonlight?"

Vegeta shot him a blank stare. The man had picked the damn wrong time to reveal his hidden Master Roshi-ish side of personality.

"So much for your life-is-shit-and-I-know-it attitude? Let me tell you - your bloom is over. You can never have your years of prime back - unlike those who actually dare to demand more from gods than they deign to give."

Aberforth sneered, looking exasperated.

"I thought I asked you to _listen? _Blast you, narcisists. Just like my brother."

The wizard started pacing circles around the table.

"I needed but to be in the same room with you for two minutes to realize that your reaction to sentiments is about the same as that of a wild hog's. Therein is my point, though - I agree with you. The flowers, the chocolate, sugary drooling, all that is for boys. You, like me, never had a real childhood. At least I cannot imagine your face in a child's countenance. But, regardless if you realize this or not, even at this very moment, you are radiating with feelings. I'll spare your dignity and won't tell them in your face, but know this - that woman is the anchor of your life. She made you what you are today. Did an incredible job, I must say, to bring forth a man inside of a brute."

"I can tell how my mentioning of her affects you. You grow all protective. You wish I would shut up. I will, soon. You are a prince, Vegeta, and clearly not a coward, yet when it comes to feelings, all your courage is worth nothing. _You do love her. _You probably don't let her know how much you don't let _yourself _know, all due to your concept of pride and honor."

Aberforth stared through the window at crimson twilight, the last glow of the day.

"Can you imagine infinity? Can you imagine the stairs, every step a year of your life? You have only climbed a small part, yet you are already tired. You're shattered inside. Look what all those years have done to you."

Vegeta clenched his fists.

"There would never be and end. Always one more step after the last one. You would have to walk it tirelessly, with no company, no other soul."

"Immortality would break you."

Vegeta's eyes widened. Last sentence struck him like a poisoned dagger, searing flesh where it was insensitive, or so he had thought. The scowl on the bridge of his nose became yet deeper, defining the shadow of a crown on his forehead. Once again doubts attacked him. From now on, he knew, they will adopt the old man's voice.

Aberforth turned his back on him and entered the room to the left. Vegeta followed, and soon they were both standing before the painting. The wizard glanced at Vegeta, whose face displayed defiance, before continuing to stare at the memento of his sister. The prince allowed him indulge in his reverie. A few prolonged moments passed. Vegeta cleared his throat.

"This is my choice. Save your breath, wizard, for I will have my way. I know that you know where I can find my answers. Speak up. There are too few sane people in this world, it would be a shame to kill you."

Aberforth smiled wryly. "No need for threats, young man. Go for it, if you must. I hope I am wrong."

His hand reached out for the portrait, and the Saiyan could not believe his eyes, when the girl _moved. _She smiled at her brother (Vegeta's heart skipped a beat) and began to recede from the painting, as if the canvas was three-dimensional. When the painting became void, a tunnel appeared. Vegeta stepped back, silently cursing his stupidity. What is it, if not a trap?

The prince nearly cringed when he felt Aberforh's hand on his shoulder.

"It's just a tunnel, a secret passage to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The look on your face tells me that you have heard of it before. But, well, who haven't?"

The old man chuckled. Vegeta ducked away from his hand, unable to stand it any longer. After all this time under Frieza, his instinct of self-defense had become to sharp to allow any kind of physical contact. The only exception was Bulma.

"The school is soon going to be attacked, so waste no time. The place you're about to see is the oldest magical building in our world, hiding more secrets beneath its walls than over ten generations of its inhabitants could discover. Search the castle, but don't forget to play tourist a little. Hogwarts is a wonderland. I thank Merlin, that I will be able to return soon…"

Vegeta nodded to the old man, an awkward gesture of gratitude. Without hesitation, he entered the passage. Flame on the torches, hanging on the walls, faltered as he flew by.

o - o - o

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**If some of you wonder why Vegeta is able to see Hogwarts in its true form, even though he is not a wizard, here's my answer. Firstly, this was necessary so that the story could work out. And furthermore, in Harry Potter books, other races - house elves, goblins, centaurs - can see Hogwarts. Vegeta is a Saiyan, therefore it's logical that he should be able to see it to. That's how I would explain it.**


	6. Inseverable

**CHAPTER 6 Inseverable**

Vegeta's POV

o o o

Vegeta's pulse quickened as he spotted a door, knowing the tunnel had brought him to its destination. Holding his breath, he pushed it open, slowly, not hasting the moment. He had finally made it into the castle.

A nondescript interior of a small, poorly lit room emerged before his eyes. A single bookshelf stood at the side, filled with thick, ancient looking volumes. Vegeta brushed a finger through their worn backs. Something in their velvet texture and graceful curves of engraved titles, undoubtedly the work of a skilled binder, aroused his reverence.

He read through the inscriptions, only to frown in disbelief. "The Art of Assassination."The Forbidden Secrets of Dark Arts". "Guide to Horcruxes". Much too vague to give an insight of what treasures he might find within. Vegeta picked up the third book and opened it, careful not to tear fragile pages. A volume of more than six hundred pages, filled with ancient script so densely that it resembled coarse sand. It would take hours of scanning, digging into arcane text to come across a single hint for his goal. Hours he did not have.

Vegeta put the book back on the shelf. After all, he was a man of action. The whole castle was open for him to seek and explore, while he was staring at those useless volumes, tools a wizard or a witch would use. Not a warrior like him.

The prince shifted his attention elsewhere and immediately spotted another door, right in front of him. This could only be the exit. He pushed the knob down.

For a moment, he stood in the doorway, blinking in confusion. Somehow he had expected it to be… light. Vegeta glanced up at adorned chandeliers, floating in the air, carrying hundreds of candles. Why weren't they lit?

Vegeta shook his head, smirking. He had thought too high of these people who possessed the gift of magic. The prince could never imagine this castle asleep. Had he been given this power, he would refuse to close his eyes and fall to darkness. He would bring the night to his rule, enslave the stars in the sky, make it shine with all the colors of the space which the Earth lacked. He would find alternate ways to rest his body and brain, other than sleep.

Yet there was something strangely comforting about the darkness, Vegeta thought, as he strolled through the corridors, his eyes fixed on fancy ceiling, ornaments on the walls, dozens of paintings. It was as if the magic itself was asleep, like a legendary tiger, slumbering quietly to let the prince observe it all he wanted, to marvel its, power, its beauty and mystery.

Vegeta stepped on the stairs, leading across to the other side, and his heart dropped to his heels as the stairs moved. He clutched tightly to the rail, cursing his lack of caution. He should have known better than to be swept away by epic scenery, forgetting that it was the enemy's den he had invaded.

Thankfully, the stairs didn't seem to be meant for harm. It spun around on its axis and delivered the passenger right to the other side. Vegeta waited until the stairs attached firmly to the floor and jumped off, making a note to be more careful.

He saw four hourglasses on the wall, each filled with four different kinds of gemstones. Two of them quickly drew his sight. Even with his aesthetically untrained eyes Vegeta could clearly see the tension of colours. Crimson red rubies and subtle emeralds boasted their thousands of brilliant shades, fighting for dominance, each eager to overshadow another. A strange electricity circulated around those two hourglasses, surrounding them with an almost tangible field. A wry smile pulled at Vegeta's lips. The electricity of competition. He could sense this peculiar kind of power miles away.

After a few moments, he turned his eyes away and proceeded to start the true investigation. He chose one of the narrower corridors, guided by his never failing intuition. It was telling him that secrets always lurk where one would least expect them.

Suddenly, a strange shadowy figure appeared at the end of the corridor. It looked too volatile to be real. The strange substance, contained in a shape of a massive man's body, shimmered constantly, and every subtle flicker was followed by the sound of grinding metal.

Even with his acute vision, Vegeta found himself doubt-ridden. Was it merely a product of the strain this whole mission had put him under, or was magic playing tricks on him again? The prince knew well how deadly those tricks could be.

However, he didn't have much time to wonder, as the mysterious figure glided in his direction. Vegeta stared at it wide-eyed. His feet froze in spot.

The man-shaped figure didn't utter a word. His thin lips, barely visible through silvery substance, remained tightly shut. His eyes were equally unfathomable. Yet there was something Vegeta did not like about them.

The prince and the shadow stood there for a few moments, their eyes brazing into one another's, until Vegeta realized. Steadiness. No fear. No… anticipation.

The realization triggered him to break this comedy.

"I have no idea who you are, but get out of my way." he growled, staying on his guard. Surely this semi-transparent shadow posed no physical threat for him, but this was the den of magic, after all.

Thin line of lips crumbled slightly, but the figure did not move.

Vegeta's temper was now dangerously close to the surface.

"Are you deaf or blind, or completely devoid of senses? If you can hear me, you milky thing, _don't try my patience."_

"Go."

Vegeta scowled.

"Pardon me? You are blocking my way. Stand aside, or you will become even less _solid."_

"I have no need to stand aside. Go wherever you wish to. Spare me, a decrepit spectre, and carry your insolent chatter elsewhere. My chains cause enough of an earbleed."

All fury vanished and Vegeta snickered. Hundreds of years in this magic-infested lair must have stripped the thing off all sense.

"You do understand that you are going to become a thin pool on the floor, don't you? Well, so be it."

With these words the Saiyan crossed those few feet, separating him from the shadow, readying himself for whatever sort of resistance he was going to crush. He imagined hitting a jelly cube or matt glass.

What he did not expect was walking right through the shadow as if he passed nothing but a mirage. Vegeta staggered for half a second to regain his balance. He looked over his shoulder, his gaze so intense that it had to burn a hole through the shadow's back like ray of light through a lens.

"If you have never seen a spectre before, sir, I must assume that you are of no noble ancestry. Hogwarts does not take kindly to outsiders. Have a nice day."

Vegeta had spent enough time in the Wizarding world to know immediately that the man was not accusing him of being a low-born when he mentioned noble ancestry. He snorted lightly and continued on his way.

A few short moments had passed, as realization struck him. Vegeta halted in spot, his eyes flared.

A spectre. No wonder this word didn't ring a bell in time, for in space, creatures of questionable solidity had other names. They were commonly called ghouls, shades, phantoms, had thousands of other names in all the languages of universe. These creatures were notorious for their mischief, foul doing and especially their deceptive nature. Even Frieza himself was too cautious to try to bend them to his will and make use of them. However, their most valuable advantage was the ability to roam freely between the worlds of living and dead. Spirits were said to know all the secrets of life and death.

The prince took a sharp breath as he realized that his precious answer was right behind him.

He swiftly turned away, only to see the spectre pass right through the wall, and then the corridor was empty, will no sign of a former shadowy presence.

Vegeta growled, his hands clenched into fists. His warrior self was ready to punch right through the wall. If he was fast enough, he could still catch the ghost. However, his strategist self reminded that this would certainly attract unwanted attention. He did not come here to fight.

The prince slowly moved onwards. His mind was muddled once again. As soon as he got a grasp of what was happening and come up with a plan, vague as it might be, an unexpected distraction would appear and all carefully structured ideas would fall apart like little parts of a mosaic. Vegeta cursed under his breath, feeling a twinge of sour pleasure as an old man in the Ancient Greek-themed painting covered his ears, begging Zeus to "strike this foul-mouthed wretch with a lightning bolt".

He tugged absentmindedly at the edges of his gloves and felt a layer of dust cover the tips of his fingers. Vegeta looked down his clothes were stained in dirt, torn at places, small patches burnt by the proximity of dodged hexes. Suddenly, he felt dust on his face too. The prince sighed. If he were to come back victorious, he would not look like a tramp.

He expanded his _ki _around him and soon felt the essence of water in the air. His mind immediately pictured a northern lake, black with depth, yet clear as glass. He tasted heavy flagrance under his tongue, tainted with saltiness.

He rose to the air, glad that the ceilings were so high, eyes seeking for the exit, and then the full realization of the castle's size hit him. The escape could be a few miles away, and this lair of wizards was full of traps. Most of which were impossible to detect without the use of magic.

Vegeta gritted his teeth. Suddenly, he felt trapped. This castle was every bit as dangerous as Frieza's spaceship.

The prince stood in the shadow, his eyes half closed. Darkness and silence calmed him, and the solution seeped into his mind without thinking.

Sometimes those who walk in the open are more difficult to see than those who sneak and crawl. Simplicity and paradox. He liked that.

"The roof it is."

o o o

He flew round the castle and soon spotted the lake. It was just as he had imagined. Its shade of dark grey merged with ease into the color of mountains, surrounding it. Mist danced on the surface of dark waters. This was a majestic sight. Vegeta flew to the edge of the lake, knelt down and submerged his hands in pleasantly cool water.

Vegeta washed his face thoroughly, his mind calm for once.

Suddenly he spotted a strange shimmering on the surface of the lake through his fingers.

Vegeta blinked, taking his hands away from his face, and stared at the waters. And indeed, there it was a small, lean form, floating on light waves. What was it doing here?

He caught a glimpse of long, black hair.

"A mermaid?" he whispered, remembering the bits of mythology-related knowledge he possessed against his own will.

The figure suddenly hopped into the air and faced him.

"_What?"_

The prince frowned at a high-pitched voice, much too rough and piercing to belong to a vile, seductive merwoman he'd heard Bulma speak of.

"Excuse me, mister, what did you just say?"

"I thought for a moment that you were a mermaid." Vegeta said aloud, looking nonchalantly at a young girl, who had just emerged from the lake. "My apologies. I should have realized that a mermaid couldn't have such an unpleasant face."

The colour of her cheeks darkened, and Vegeta's ears nearly burst from the following rant. It didn't take a genius to guess that even after her death, this girl had been a scapegoat and a plaything for a few generation at this school, and her nerves had been chewed up to thin strings that snap at the slightest remark. He felt a tingle of pity for her, the unsympathetic people's like him kind of pity, tempered with scorn.

He looked at her, and as he focused on the shimmering of her skin, the ever-changing silvery substance of her form, the realization hit him. He gasped mentally. There was no mistake…

"I hope very much that one day you will meet a proper mermaid. I can assure you that after such encounter, one look at your face will make eyes bleed!"

"I apologize. I was being insensitive." Vegeta repeated, his voice carefully pitched down to a husky, velvet tone. Kami knew he could be charming when he intended to. The girl looked at him sceptically, distrust apparent in her eyes. Vegeta realized quickly that she was not used to polite treatment, even less than he was. The only difference was that the Saiyan was well aware of his worth, while she wasn't.

He blinked, feigning abashment, and tried to erase the ever-present scowl on the bridge of his nose. He needed to get the brat talking...

These small efforts worked all too soon; the girl advanced even closer, and now Vegeta was almost entirely sure that she was the same mysterious phenomenon he had encountered before.

"You are a spectre, aren't you? A ghost." he asked softly.

"I am, mister. Moaning Myrtle at your service." the girl clapped her hands, her face shining with such enthusiasm that could only be triggered after decades of deadly boredom. But perhaps this was the case.

"Were you born one?"

The girl chuckled.

"No one can be born a ghost, silly. It's an afterlife state, or rather a state between life and… and…"

"Death." Vegeta finished brusquely. "And how long exactly have you been in this particular state?"

"Ever since I was dead." Moaning Myrtle scratched a pimple on her chin, staring dreamily at the lake. "It's nearly a century now."

Her eyes glowed at the flush of memories, but before she could proceed to tell her tragic tale, Vegeta asked:

"I need an answer to a question that has been bothering me for a long time. The ghosts seem to be the only creatures who could give a rightful answer."

Moaning Myrtle smirked knowingly.

"Oooh, I see. I should have known as soon as you came to me. Many people wish to know these secrets…"

"Excellent. Please proceed."

The ghost of a girl circled around him and lay her head flirtatiously on his shoulder. Vegeta felt goosebumps rise on his skin from her icy touch. He fought the urge to shake her away.

"I can tell from hardened lines in your face that you have known suffering. Your eyes are a wall of steel I can't see through. Your skin is tense and sensitive around them. And the line of your lips is stern, set so firmly above your chin, it forms a quite intimidating…"

"Excuse me." Vegeta snapped dryly. "I can't remember having asked for a physiognomy lecture. Get straight to the point."

"I hate being straightforward. In my days, girls weren't so bold and aggressive. This is what I tell them, when I find them snivelling in the toilet over their sweethearts."

"It appears I'm a modernist, then." Vegeta snorted and waved his hand. "Continue."

The girl sighed dolefully and retreated a few feet.

"Well, to put it frankly, yours is the face of villain and a murderer. This means that your afterlife will be a living hell. Literally. Oh, this is funny." She laughed.

"Indeed this is very funny." A dark shadow came over the prince's face. "I know all too well what hell means, girl. I have wallowed in the deepest pit of mud, along with the cruelliest, filthiest, most pathetic creatures this universe had bred."

He laughed so loud that a blackbird, resting on a willow branch above the water, fluttered away.

"When I escaped, I swore to myself that even nine thousand daemons would not drag me back to this pit again. And there seems to be an obvious solution. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Vegeta leaned forward. He snarled quietly when Myrtle shied away, resisting the urge to grab her shoulders, for he knew now that he would only touch cold air.

"I had to be more straightforward myself." he lifted his chin. "Tell me how to become what you are."

The prince was suddenly taken aback by a flash of scorn in the girl's eyes.

"And I thought you were of the strong ones." she muttered. "You want to become a shadow of yourself. To go back to the life you lived, see all your mistakes, foul doings and be able to change nothing. The other day a thought came to my head. Do you think, perhaps the words "spectre" and "spectator" have something in common?"

Vegeta didn't answer.

"They certainly have." Moaning Myrtle scratched her chin. "This is what we are. The observers, who don't belong to the otherworld, but have no true place here either."

"Well, I do enjoy this. At least I've gotten my revenge on the girl who made my life a living hell. This had always been my excuse at those rare times when this state became too… too nonsensical."

"But she died, didn't she?" Vegeta asked.

"Fifty-two years ago."

The prince looked down at the water. The wind was calmer now, and so were the waves, swirling idly at every swing of breeze.

"The one who made my life hell is already dead. Burning in the pit as deep as the one he made his victims suffer in during his tyranny. Your excuse would not be valid for me."

He stared at her eyes, slightly unsettled by their shallowness. These were indeed the eyes of a shadow.

"This path is not what I need. Tell me how to truly become immortal, to stop the aging of my body and mind, to grow stronger with every passing decade so that there would be no one to surpass me."

"I don't know the answer."

"Then tell me where to find someone who does!"

Myrtle suddenly gasped and shied away, and Vegeta realized that his _ki_ had sparked higher than neutral in annoyance, and it was burning the silvery substance she was made of. Perhaps the ghosts were more sensitive to it. Vegeta let his _ki_ drop a little.

"Go to Professor Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore should know. He knows everything…"

Suddenly she stiffened in the air, even her hair frozen in the wind. Before Vegeta could ask what was wrong, she let out a sorrowful wail and dove into the waters.

Vegeta closed his eyes. Those creatures were so _slippery._

He turned around, rose to the air and headed for the same exit he had used before.

o o o

Vegeta leaned against the wall. He had been searching the castle for almost an hour now without any success.

There was an uncountable amount of doors, half of which led to ordinary classrooms, the other half were magically locked, misleading or merely a mirage in the wall. What was worse, though, was that his intrusion had triggered seemingly every little trap set in the castle's walls, stairs, paintings, statues, doors. Every tangible patch of this lair of magic was accursed. Hd it not been for his superb Saiyan reaction and quick defense mechanism, he would have been a cripple by now.

The prince tapped an empty bottle of "Ogden's Old Firewhiskey" with his foot and set it rolling until it hit the opposite wall.

"What madman built this oversized shit-hole of a castle?" he wondered aloud.

Hoarse chuckling sound answered his musing. Vegeta spun around.

The inhabitant of the painting, hanging askew behind his back, was trying to mount his small horse. Vegeta watched with half-hearted amusement as the man, clad in rusty armor, tried to wrap his short leg around the horse's side but fell down in attempt.

His numerous attempts and steel-hard determination sparked the Saiyan's natural curiosity. He needed a distraction until he would continue on his mission again.

Finally the knight gave up on trying and slumped on the grass, letting out a gag. The prince noticed an empty bottle of wine in his left hand.

The man saw Vegeta staring and waved a bottle at him.

"What are you gawking at, you ne'er-do-well? Am I amusing you, eh? Draw back!"

"I will watch as long as I please, for you are indeed amusing." Vegeta smirked roguishly. "Why don't you get a ladder?"

The knight uttered a wild warcry and swung his bottle at him. The prince already knew that the painting characters could not step over the boundaries of their canvas, except to visit their equally incarcerated neighbours, so he stayed still.

"Are you deaf? I said, draw back instantly ere I cut your pear-shaped head off!"

Vegeta gritted his teeth.

"Pear-shaped? I have inherited my hair from my father, and he from my father's father, and both carried a title "Firecrown", this was the name the crowds chanted to greet them in their victories. As far as I know, you might not have hair at all under that tin cap of yours."

"This helmet was carried from father to son for whole four centuries, you scurvy dog!"

"And so was your horse, it appears. A three-legged asthmatic cow would suit you better."

The knight suddenly struck the pony hard in the head with the empty bottle. The animal collapsed under his feet, and the midget drew out his sword in one swift, practiced motion. He staggered drunkenly, trying to balance the heavy weapon in his hand, and Vegeta's shoulders shook with silent laughter at a grim expression on his face.

"I was obliged to send my charger to this temporary oblivion of a mind's rest, to protect him from your terrible insult. Defend thyself! _En garde!_"

"Oh, piss off." Vegeta turned away. "I came here to find something, not to entertain a fictional old drunkard."

"I beg your pardon? Fictional drunkard! The latter I have heard say of, but to be called _fictional… _To find something?" the knight's face suddenly lit up, as if he had been offered ten thousand zeni.

"An adventurer! Sir Cadogan is at your service, my fair sir!" the knight beamed and touched his temple in a salute. "Tell me what is it that you so desire, and I shall lead you through hordes of daemons to find it!"

Vegeta smirked.

"Dumbledore's office." he told him. "Show me the way."

"The Headmaster's himself! You are an ambitious man, sir. Yet a lucky one. The current Headmaster is on patrol at the moment, we should arrive in time if we hasten."

Sir Cadogan moved to the painting to his left, whistling a march.

o o o

Vegeta looked deeply in the gargoyle's eye. A huge stone orb stared back, confronting the challenger with its deadly shine.

"_Lillium Sargentiae" _he recited.

The statue of the beast moved aside, its old joints cracking, and revealed winding stairs, undoubtedly leading to the office. Vegeta nodded and stepped forward. His finger involuntary reached for the gargoyle's back, stroking smooth, grey marble. He could almost feel rippling muscles behind the skin.

As soon as he set a foot upon the first step, the stairs moved, carrying him upwards.

Vegeta did not expect the door to be locked, as the gargoyle seemed to be enough of a guard, and he was right. He pushed the door open and took in the view that appeared before his eyes.

The office was like a temple itself. It was as if the essence of this castle was contained in one room. High ivory ceiling, running down in graceful curves and framing shelves, full of ancient-looking volumes. Silver instruments on the tables, tiny machines constructed of lean tubes, levers and crystal lenses.

Vegeta picked up a silver spyglass. It was quite heavy for such a minute device. However, its purpose was unfathomable to him, thus it was useless.

Suddenly, a faint glow reached the corner of his eye. The prince turned around.

At the furthest niche of the room, set on one of those tiny tables, was a bowl. Vegeta moved closer.

The glass vessel was shallow, only slightly bent. It was filled with a semi-transparent substance which the prince could give no name to. Optical, magic-induced illusion for the eyes, he thought. The substance was neither liquid nor gas, as if its creator was able to bend the laws of nature to his favor and reach some halfway state. Vegeta wondered what would Bulma think of this.

Then he noticed a glass cupboard, stocked with minute vials, every single one of them labeled with graceful script. One vial caught his eye it did not fit among the rest of them. The vial was simple and undecorated. It resembled the bottle of Restraining elixir.

Vegeta's lips twisted in disgust, and he was about to turn away, when he noticed that this particular vial was also unlabeled. This was enough to ignite his curiosity. The prince took the vial gently between his thumb and index finger, whirling it around to see the light reflect off the same half-gas, half-liquid substance as the one in the bowl.

His gaze flickered between the vial and the bowl, and then, acting out of pure impulse, he poured the content of the vial into the glass vessel, watching, mesmerized, as the shimmering stream merged into shallow silvery waters. The prince held his breath, waiting for the miracle to be born, for a new god to arise from this maelstrom of magic. Waiting for the answer.

To his slight disappointment, there was no grandiose breakout. The stream dove into the waters like a half-solid smoke, unfolding a picture. Vegeta squinted to see beneath the whirling substance.

A class full of students, with their pompous master sitting perched in a fat armchair, stroking his lush moustache.

As if to mock him, the vision suddenly blurred, concealing the picture. Vegeta leaned down. And then, a little bit lower.

He cringed as the tip of his nose touched the substance. Vegeta had only a moment to take in the sensation of lukewarm, smoky matter, and then the floor of the office turned upside down. The Saiyan gasped, as he was suddenly sucked into the swirling waters of the bowl. He felt his feet detaching from the ground, and he sank into nothingness.

o o o

"_Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"_

"_Tom, Tom, If I knew, I couldn't tell you. I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff you are."_

Vegeta spread his arms to sides, making sure that he was still solid and did not became some sort of liquid gas himself. The sound was mutted as if he was underwater.

"… _keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry…"_

Suddenly, Vegeta became aware of the voices around him. He looked around.

Yes, it was without a doubt the same classroom he had seen outside of this… this matrix. The people in the room a group of teenage brats and a whiskered man with huge, bloated belly. He had somehow been transferred into this picture.

"_I don't know that politics would suit me, sir. I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."_

The strangest thing was, however, that nobody paid the slightest attention to his sudden presence. Vegeta sighed with relief. The magic of this world held an almost omnipotent power, yet it was bound by the elementary laws of time, space and logic. There was no way he could have been suddenly brought to another timeline or dimension. Or… was there?

Then he remembered all the vials on the glass shelf, full of the same substance, and the labels of them. The names of events, likely.

Not to confuse himself further, Vegeta settled for an idea that this vision within a bowl was a memory, much like a video tape, magically recorded from its owner's mind, and this bowl was a player, an instrument to review any memory converted to this half-liquid-half-gas state.

"Remarkable." he muttered.

Just as he had reasoned this out and familiarized himself with the new surroundings, the golden clock on a desk beat eleven o'clock and the professor flinched, eyeing it nervously.

"_Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better get going boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by in morrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery."_

Quiet rustling of papers, the sound of books being slapped shut and a flutter of black robes. One more minute and the room was empty.

As the echo of closed door faded away and the professor got up from his velvet-covered armchair, a movement behind his back made him aware that one student had not deserted the classroom yet. He turned around.

"_Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, _and you are a prefect…"

"_Sir, I wanted to ask you something."_

Vegeta eyed the boy. He had been too caught up in the surroundings to give him a closer look until now, and he regretted it.

The youngling felt familiar to him in the strangest of ways.

Frankly speaking, it was a human boy whom Vegeta could not bring himself to call a brat. There was age embed into his black eyes. They were deep and cynical ahead of years. Those eyes were uncomfortable to look at. Even though they bore no resemblance, Vegeta felt as if he was staring into the eyes of a snake. Vibrant, alluring. So familiar...

"_Ask away, then, my boy, ask away…"_

The boy held himself like an aristocrat. Snobbery seeped through every pore of his being. His lips were now lightly pursed, one short moment before parting again to deliver his inquiry. Vegeta noted how thin they were. Cruelly thin. The only part of his face that did not radiate with ripe beauty.

"_Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?"_

The Saiyans ears rang with the power of this foreign word. Vegeta closed his eyes briefly, as his memory brought him back to the room, full of books, and the taste on his lips became bitter. If only he had known…

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the professor glaring incredulously at his pupil, and he knew that he was not mistaken.

"_Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?" _Vegeta rather doubted it, and he could tell that so did the professor.

"_Not exactly, sir. I came accross the term while reading and didn't fully understand it."_

"_No? Well, you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom. That's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed…"_

"_But you obviously know all about them, sir?" _The boy looked up at the senior man, words sliding off his lips with humble reverence. _"I mean, a wizard like you sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could so I just thought I'd ask…"_

Vegeta watched as the professor's posture relaxed and leaned in slightly, beguiled by his student's careful words of flattery, and he knew immediately that he would get his answer through this human, this wizard with an old soul trapped into the body of a young boy with with the tongue of a snake.

o o o

The prince blinked as he was thrown out back to the solid reality. His hands were shaking.

"Impossible." he whispered, clutching the sides of the bowl. He was too caught up to notice that the bowl should have shattered at the force of his grip, yet it stayed whole.

Vegeta didn't understand it. How could killing sever one's soul?

Killing. Murder. Slaughter. Assassination. The language of this Earth had so many useless words for this mere act of depriving a being of life, while the Saiyan tongue had only two. The first one, _Lurghu_, meant assassination outside of battle, one which brings no honour for the assassin, but rather shame. It occurs mostly in politics, when a Saiyan is inclined to get rid of his opponent. Sometimes _Lurghu_ is carried out as a dirty revenge.

The second one, _Raivtha_, was what defined a Saiyan most. An honourable kill in the battlefield, when two opponents fight each other at their full strength. This fight is to the death, and the survivor can proudly proclaim his or her victory. This kind of killing was what Saiyans enjoyed most and were most feared for by other races.

None of these two kinds of killing had anything to do with immortality. There was no practice of religious sacrifice in the Saiyan traditions. They had no beliefs, no dogmas to bind them, other than their famous code of honour and fierce loyalty to their families.

Vegeta had committed countless genocides under Frieza's rule. He had wiped thousands of minor races out of existence just for mercenary reasons. If there was any way that killing could somehow make him immortal, he would have become omnipotent in the first two decades of his life.

"Bullshit." the prince laughed bitterly, yet his mind was still processing the gained information, searching for the key he had missed.

And then it hit him. He had been overwhelmed by the memories of Saiyan mentality, which were so precious to him, for his knowledge of his ancestors was so scarce. And this was why the truth escaped him in last few minutes.

_Magic._

One must use a certain kind of dark magic to encase the portion of his soul into an object, called Horcrux, and thus make it last forever. And then, when the wizard dies, a part of his soul remains. This is where the glory ends, Vegeta thought. The senior wizard was right. Who would willingly endure such existence? What remains of the soul would be even less than a spectre. Less than a shadow. Barely more than nothing.

Vegeta sneered in disgust. So this is what he had wasted those several days for! This is what he endured the most pitiable slavery for, risked his life for, conceded to talk to an old dimwit, fat baron, ugly, vain wench and, oh Kami, even a portrait!

And all he'd gotten out of all this madness was a lie. A dead end. A mockery in his face. Vegeta listened to silence, and it seemed as though all those silver instruments were chiming lightly like chuckling toddlers. Their imaginary clinging mingled together into one tormenting cacophony.

"SHUT UP!" he roared to break the silence.

He grabbed the memory reviewing bowl and tried to smash it, but suddenly the glass heated up, edges becoming iron white. Vegeta cursed and dropped it. He stared at red marks on his hands. Ordinary heat would have done no harm in such a short time.

A new sound made him look at the table again.

The liquid in the bowl was boiling. Bubbles shot out on the surface, breaking light into full spectrum as they whirled. The bowl was rippling and hissing like the devil's cauldron.

Suddenly, thin tentacles of silvery substance shot out, aiming for his head. He tried to slap them away, but the appendages were intangible. They attached themselves to his temples like shining silver leeches and dug in. Vegeta gasped.

Their attack was painless, yet sickening. The tentacles raved freely in his mind, evading the deepest pits and corners of his memory. The prince tried to put up a mental fight, but this was something he had never tried before. His mind, which he'd thought to be strong, was now defenseless against the usurpers.

Just as Vegeta had feared, they skipped the outermost layers, where the best of him was, and went for the dark depths of his past. He gritted his teeth and clawed at his temples, trying desperately to root out those parasites that had no right to see what lay hidden deep within him. Vegeta closed his eyes, wishing that darkness could fall on his mind too, to conceal what he despised to see.

An eternity passed, and finally the mental leeches began to withdraw. Vegeta staggered. His mind and body felt jelly-like.

He watched the tentacles dive back into the bowl, and the surface calmed again.

Vegeta stepped closer and, as if sensing his presence, the liquid became see-through. An image emerged beneath the surfave. Bone-pale, horned head, staring at his direction, lips twisted into a mockery of smile.

Against his will, he leaned down just a little bit, and then he felt the gravity extending from the centre of the bowl, trying to pull him closer still.

He resisted with ease. Vegeta smiled savagely, enjoying his victory against the magic. Such gravity may have sucked a human in to this damnable liquid, but not a powerful Saiyan like him. One hundred, perhaps one hundred and fifty times the Earth's gravity. He could hardly even feel it.

The prince tilted his chin back and broke out of the field of pulling force. He strolled towards the door and stopped to take one last glance to the bowl, where his worst memories had been incarcerated.

"_Buon appetito_, leeches."

o o o

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**a) I found the Final Battle Timeline in the forum ( .net/topic/1394/59600529/1/). According to it, the school is uneventful between 20.25, when the sun sets, and approximately 22.45, when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrives and all the turmoil begins. The events of this chapter are set during these hours. However, in later chapters there are definitely going to be some logic mistakes, such as events from Vegeta and Bulma's POV which occur out of order with the original events of the book or overlaps with them and so on. I'll try to avoid those mistakes as much as possible, but they might still irritate you a bit.**

**b) The password to the Headmaster's office _Lillium Sargentiae_ is a Latin name for the lily flower. Just my little way to show Snape's undying love for Harry's mother. I'm not sure if the headmasters themselves choose the password, or maybe there is some system or a magical machine to choose them randomly, but I took the liberty.**

**c) In the Horcrux memory part, the lines in italics are the exact quotes from the book. They belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.**

**d) The two words in Saiyan language, Lurghu and Raivtha, are of my own creation and don't belong to any real language, unless by a coincidence.**


End file.
